


Family, Friendship, and Love

by sabershadowkat



Series: Family, Friendship & Love [1]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Futurefic, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-17
Updated: 2005-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-01 12:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/356733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabershadowkat/pseuds/sabershadowkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of love, friendship, and family, not necessarily in that order.<br/>Story diverges into AU from Stray.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family, Friendship, and Love

 

## Family, Friendship, and Love

by Henry Jones Jr

<http://www.sabershadowkat.com>

* * *

_Prologue_

Someone once asked him if he'd thought his life would turn out like this.

Clark Kent stretched his arms out across the back of the green-painted bench, ankle propped on his opposite knee. The warm sun shone brightly in the sky, and he squinted slightly as he kept an eye on the red-haired boy playing on the basketball court in the park. Sam had a basketball in one hand and a stopwatch in the other. White chalk scribbles desecrated the half-court blacktop, two full chalk sticks worth used in the hour they'd been at the park.

Clark watched as Sam pressed the stopwatch button, let it fall, and shot the basketball towards the hoop. The string around Sam's neck prevented the stopwatch from dropping to the ground. Sam watched intently as the ball hit the rim of the basketball hoop, and he pushed the button on the stopwatch again. Frowning, he crouched and wrote the new calculation on the blacktop.

Clark smiled fondly. His son was obsessed with mathematics, almost as much as Sam was obsessed with building robots and other inventions. Their house doubled as a testing ground. The toaster had been turned into an AM radio that received signals from Japan. An old refrigerator had become a gentle wash laundry, with automatic arms that hung the clothes on the clothesline. Auto-adjusting stilts that rose up to eight feet replaced the need for a ladder. So did the glove-operated extending arms. Puppy, the robotic guard dog, sat by the front door and barked when his sensor alarm went off at night. Suffice to say, seven-year-old Samuel Kent was quite the child prodigy.

Just like his father, Lex Luthor.

_Part One_

"I'm pregnant."

His parents stared at him in confusion. After a long minute of silence, his mom began looking more worried. His dad looked as if he were waiting for the rest of the joke.

"Pregnant," Jonathan Kent repeated with skeptical amusement.

"Clark, you're joking, right?" Martha asked.

Clark shook his dark head, green-blue eyes down, slumping his broad shoulders even more. He ripped the paper napkin in his hands into small portions, a pile of shredding already on the kitchen table in front of him.

"Come on, Clark," Jonathan laughed. "You're a man. Men can't get pregnant."

Clark didn't say anything. The napkin shreddings became smaller.

Martha reached across the table and covered Clark's hands. "Clark?"

Clark raised his head and looked at her. His eyes glistened, but no tears fell. "It's the truth," he whispered, wishing it were not. "I'm pregnant."

An uncomfortable silence pressed heavily on the occupants of the kitchen. The hand covering Clark's had jerked, but Martha didn't pull away. Clark looked down again, face red with shame.

"Do you know how?" Martha had a tremor in her voice.

"How do you think?"

"Well, I don't know, that's why I'm asking," she said.

"I had sex, Mom. Unprotected S-E-X. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Don't talk to your mother like that," Jonathan said.

"I'm sorry, but I'm a little wigged out." Clark pulled his hands away from his mom. "I'm pregnant. As in, knocked up, bun in the oven, in the family way. As if I wasn't enough of a freak already."

"I'm not sure I understand, Clark," Jonathan said. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "You had unprotected intercourse with a girl-"

"Guy," Clark interrupted, clenching his hands in his lap. "I had sex with another guy."

Silence descended again, tense and ugly. Jonathan broke it with a bluntly asked, "Who?"

Clark hesitated before answering. "Lex."

Jonathan shoved back from the table. The chair screamed as it scraped violently against the floor. He stalked out of the house, the screen door slamming in his wake.

"Mom-," Clark began worriedly.

"The truck keys are still on the counter, Clark," Martha reassured. "Besides, your father doesn't know where Lex lives in Metropolis."

"Somehow, I don't think that would matter."

Martha pursed her lips and was quiet for a moment. Eventually, she asked, "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"With what?"

"With you and Lex," Martha said. "I suspected something was developing between you two, but I didn't think it had gone that far."

"We were friends, Mom, and that's it." Clark reached for another napkin and began to shred it. "One night, we had a little too much to drink and way too much po- adult television, and...," he trailed off, turning crimson. He shifted and cleared his throat. "I liked him, no matter what anyone else's opinion was of him. He always treated me like I was an equal, not some geeky farm kid. Even after that night, things didn't get uncomfortable between us. In fact, Lex opened up a bit more." Clark's expression saddened. "But he's gone now, so it doesn't really matter, does it? It's not like I could tell him that I'm pregnant, anyway."

"Honey, it's not that I don't believe you," Martha began tentatively, "but how do you know you're pregnant?"

Clark stood and pulled up the hem of his shirt. An oval lump the size of a football, protruding approximately two-inches from his body, distended the right side of his abdomen. He caressed his palm over the spot. "It's grown larger over the past month. When I first noticed it, I x-rayed myself, hoping I wasn't growing a tentacle." He laughed humorlessly. "Instead, I found that I'm growing another life."

He released his shirt and removed a piece of notebook paper from his pocket. He unfolded it and laid it on the table. "This is what I look like inside. I used an anatomy book to label it as best as I could."

The crude drawing of Clark's torso was simple. He had human-like lungs and a heart in the correct places. His esophagus ran from his throat to his stomach, which was on the side of his body beneath his right lung. The stomach branched off in two directions. One tube led towards the left side of his body, where his liver and intestinal tract were. He had no kidneys, pancreas, appendix, or small intestines. The large intestines snaked back and forth three times, halfway across his body, ending at his colon.

The second tube from his stomach hooked down to a sac nestled below the digestive organ. The walls inside the sac were lined with small beads that resembled amphibian eggs. A tube, which was labeled 'fertility tube', ran from the sac to the colon, ending beneath the prostate. A triangle in the sac indicated to look at the close up sketch also drawn on the paper.

The second picture showed that the child was male and looked very frog-like. A matrix of membranes connected the baby to the walls of the egg. The egg itself rested in the bottom of the sac.

"The way I figure it," Clark began, leaning over his mother's shoulder to point at the drawing. It was also easier to explain when she wasn't looking directly at him. "The fertility tube is closed until the prostate is stimulated, to protect it from bodily waste. The egg must be nourishing the baby through osmosis, since the stomach is connected directly to the egg cavity. I'm surprised that only one of the eggs was, um, in-inseminated, because I'd bet that all the eggs on the sac wall are fertile."

Martha nodded, set the paper aside, and turned on her chair. She reached for the hem of Clark's shirt. "May I?"

Clark lifted his shirt for her. His mom's hands were warm against his skin. "It's hard," Martha commented, pressing lightly against the lump.

"For protection, I'd guess," Clark said.

Martha looked up at him. "You seem very calm"

"More like resigned," he told her. "I've already had a month to adjust to this bit of alien fun. I'm all out of tears and screams of unfairness. Now, I'm just scared, feeling a little helpless, and sad that Lex will never know he's a father."

"Sweetheart, I think Lex is the least of your worries," she said.

"I know," Clark sighed, lowering his shirt. His eyes fell on the paper on the table. "But I miss him. I wish he hadn't accepted his dad's offer to return to Metropolis."

"I hate to say this, Clark, but it's better that Lex is gone," Martha said gently. "You would have had to keep your pregnancy from him and the secret that the baby was his child, once he was born."

Clark wanted to ask why, but he already knew the answer. It had been drilled into him since he could understand English. Once he turned eighteen, he would be allowed the option of telling whom he wanted about his secrets, but with the mature understanding of the danger to himself, his parents, his friends, and now his child.

"What do you think bothers dad more," Clark said, sinking into the chair beside his mother, "that I'm pregnant, that I slept with another guy, or that the guy was Lex?"

Martha patted his hand, her silence answering for her.

* * *

The more Martha got upset, the more outwardly calm she became. The serene smile she gave Clark when he left the house should have clued him in that all was not right in her world. In fact, all was very, very wrong.

Her baby was going to have a baby.

Her male child, who had sexual intercourse with another male, was going to have a male child.

Lex should be glad that he was very far away.

Martha smoothed the creases from Clark's drawing. She lightly traced her finger over the frog-like image of the baby growing inside Clark. Her baby's baby. Lex Luthor's child.

The fact that the baby was a Luthor did not bother Martha; Lex was more than his last name. The problem was that the baby's father was a twenty-one-year-old man who impregnated her fifteen-year-old son. Clark was still a child himself, and while she did not believe Lex took advantage, he should have stopped it from going that far. He was the adult and had the responsibility to protect Clark from making unwise - and illegal - choices.

Martha might be more understanding if love was the basis for their actions. People did incredibly dumb things when they were in love. However, Clark did not profess said emotion and she was skeptical that Lex would have left Smallville if he had been in love with her son.

Martha stood and went into the kitchen to make herself some tea. She added a large splash of cooking brandy to the tea, though she doubted even a full bottle of alcohol would make the situation any more tolerable.

Her baby was going to have a baby, and she was going to have to pretend that it didn't bother her at all.

* * *

Jonathan saw Clark approaching, and he forced himself not to turn his back and walk away. He gripped the top beam of the fence, calloused fingers biting into the wood. The sharp prick of a splinter was a reminder to keep his temper under control.

Jonathan was well past the point of anger. A Luthor had once again managed to destroy a Kent life. After all Jonathan had done to try and keep Clark safe, to teach him to recognize good people from bad, Clark was still tainted by the Luthors.

Jonathan blamed himself, with a self-loathing that turned into acid in his stomach. He saw how Lex had looked at Clark; Lex had wanted to devour every drop of innocence and purity from him. The bald slime succeeded, too, and left town after he'd gotten what he'd wanted, leaving behind a mess for others to clean up in typical Luthor fashion.

"Dad," Clark said tentatively, stopping beside Jonathan. His head was bowed, hands shoved deep in his pockets. "I'm sorry."

Jonathan snorted rudely, which was a great way to start off a conversation, but he was still furious. "Being sorry isn't going to change the fact that you had sex with a Luthor."

Clark winced, but forged ahead. "It wasn't like Lex-"

"I don't want to hear it," Jonathan interrupted.

"But-"

"I don't want to hear it," he repeated angrily. "I told you time and again to stay away from Luthor and you refused to listen, so you can deal with the consequences yourself."

"It's not like I got pregnant on purpose," Clark said in a wavering tone.

"Clark, unless you tell me that Luthor forced you, you're as much to blame as he is," Jonathan stated.

Clark's eyes shot up, a hint of anger coloring them darker. "I'd bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? For me to cry rape? I'd bet you'd love to run to the police and have Lex locked away, not to mention destroy his name."

"The Luthor name should be destroyed," Jonathan said bitterly.

"Lex, Dad! It's Lex, not 'Luthor'!" Clark exclaimed. "I don't know what your deal is with Lionel Luthor, but stop taking it out on Lex! He has done nothing but try to be a good friend and community member since he got here."

"Your 'good friend' hit you with his car."

"It was an accident, Dad. Jesus!" Clark fumed. "It could have been anyone driving and the result would have been the same. I was the one loitering on the bridge, which isn't legal. Lex did nothing but die that day-," he narrowed his eyes, "-and I'd be making another bet that you wish he had stayed dead."

Jonathan said nothing. How could he, if he somewhat agreed? The problems he'd faced in one way or another - the contamination of his property, Clark being shot, Earl's affliction, Chloe's injuries, and now Clark's pregnancy - none of them would have happened if Lex Luthor had died permanently on the riverbank. It shamed Jonathan to know how petty he was, but that didn't change his feelings. Tears appeared in Clark's eyes, and Jonathan had never heard such pain in his son's voice. "Thanks, Dad. I knew I could always count on you for support."

A split second later, Clark was gone.

In Jonathan's mind, the Luthors had won, once again.

* * *

Clark was at the castle in a blink, and he collapsed onto the stone steps with a choked sob. Violently scrubbing his hand over his eyes, he pulled his legs to his chest and rested his forehead against his bent knees. He was not going to cry. He'd shed enough tears over the freakshow that was his life.

A few tears escaped, anyway, from behind tightly closed eyelids. The anguish of his father's disdain cut deeply. Clark had been afraid his parents weren't going to take the news well, which was why he'd agonized for a month about telling them, but he hadn't prepared to be outright rejected by his dad, or to learn that Jonathan wished Lex was dead.

"Lex hasn't done anything wrong," Clark whispered despairingly. Since Lex had arrived in Smallville, he'd only done good things. He hadn't fired anyone from the plant, even though Lionel had wanted him to do so. He'd re-opened the Talon for Lana instead of turning it into a parking lot. He'd risked his own life to free Clark's classmates when Earl had taken them hostage. He had been careful in handling the Amy situation, he had made sure Whitney was kept out of trouble during the blackmail thing, and he hadn't taken any action against Pete when he'd tried to kill Lex.

Lex was a good person buried under the Luthor mantle, but no one seemed to see that except Clark. Sure, he was dodgy when it came to business and getting what he wanted, but he'd never purposely hurt anyone. The few times he and Clark had fought, Lex had been trying to learn more about his friend or trying to help in his own way.

Lex was gone now, though, having left the same day as Ryan. It had been a double blow to Clark, losing two people he felt very close to, even though he'd only known Ryan for a few days. Learning that he was pregnant shortly thereafter had sent Clark careening into depression that led him to spending a lot of time sitting on the steps of the castle, making futile wishes for things to be different.

However, Clark wouldn't change the events that led to his pregnancy for anything. The look on Lex's face when he'd first entered Clark, like he'd been given the keys to heaven, was forever burned in Clark's mind. The sex had been great, but it was afterwards, lying face-to-face beneath the sheets, both of them wearing shy, goofy grins, that had been the best part. It had felt right. And when he and Chloe had shown up at the castle the next evening for Chloe's video interview, Lex was more relaxed and happy than he'd ever been, which had made Clark happy in return.

"I miss you," Clark said roughly, voice clogged with tears. He hugged his knees tighter to his chest, and sat on the castle steps until dawn.

_Part Two_

An uncomfortable pall hung over the Kent farm like a thick, black cloud. Father and son spoke to each other in clipped sentences. The baby was only discussed once between them, when Jonathan had made a disparaging comment about having to hire new farm hands and Clark had responded icily, "When this baby comes, you'd better not take your problems with me out on him."

Martha tried to smooth things over but it was difficult, especially with Clark home everyday since school ended for the summer. It didn't help that she had to show unwavering support for Clark and, at the same time, appease her husband. The baby items that were slowly accumulating in the house added to the tension, a blatant reminder of the situation.

Fear also played its part in causing family strain. They had no idea how long the term of pregnancy was for a half-alien, half-human child. They had no idea if the baby was developing normally in the egg. They had no idea as to how he would be born. They had no idea if he would even survive once he was born. Plans were made, however, for the baby's arrival as if he was a normal human child. Clark would not be returning to school in the fall and would take the GED test when he turned seventeen. He would wait until after the baby was born to obtain a full-time job. He would continue to live at home since he was still a minor and part of his income would go to his parents, for taking care of some of the baby's needs and babysitting while Clark worked. Finally, they prepared an affidavit of paternity to be filed with the county, legalizing Clark's fatherhood.

The only thing left to do was wait. Clark's sixteenth birthday came and went. The summer days grew longer and hotter. The bulge on Clark's right side protruded another two inches, making it harder to hide under his clothes. Chloe and Pete thought he was getting fat because of the amount of food he ate. He only smiled in response.

"How does it look?" Chloe asked, pushing back slightly from the desk.

"Wow, Chloe," Clark said, leaning over his shoulder to better see the computer monitor. "That's great."

"I thought so." Chloe primped. "It's about time the Torch webpage had a facelift."

"Yeah, but is it still easy to navigate?" Pete asked. He parked himself on her lap, ignoring her cry of dismay, and reached for the computer mouse.

"I'm sure it's fine, Pete." Clark returned to his spot on Chloe's bed. Chloe's bedroom was the coolest room of her house and they had gone there to escape from the summer heat.

"God, Pete, you're heavy." Chloe shoved ineffectually at him. "Are you on the Clark Kent diet?"

"Don't you mean the Eat Everything In Sight diet?" Pete joked, rising so she could move.

"Ha-ha," Clark muttered sarcastically, even though it was the truth. He was always hungry these days. Aside from the lump on his abdomen, it was, thankfully, the only side-effect of his pregnancy.

Chloe escaped the chair and joined Clark on the bed. She shoved his feet over so she could sprawl across the bottom. "Speaking of food, are we pizza-bound tonight?"

"I'm in," Pete said quickly.

Clark shook his head. "Can't. My mom wants me to help her at the Community Fund-raising Dinner tonight." He glanced at the clock. "In fact, I should probably go. I still have some chores to do."

"Okay, Clark," Chloe said as Clark rose and started for the door. "Are we still on for Jackson's Hole tomorrow?'

"Pick me up around 10:30 AM," Clark replied with a grin.

"Bye, Clark," Pete called after him. "Maybe we'll stop by the fund-raiser and make fun of you."

Ignoring Pete's threat, Clark made his way downstairs, calling, "Goodbye, Mr. Sullivan!" as he passed Chloe's father on the way out the back door.

He started on his usual shortcut home. Chloe lived on the outskirts of downtown Smallville, and he'd walked - or run - from between her house and his thousands of times. It was surprising his constant travels hadn't worn a path in the ground.

As soon as he was out of sight of any witnesses, Clark took off running at superspeed. He wanted to grab a snack before starting his chores. Dinner was to be whatever was served at the Community Center. His mother had teased earlier that they'd better not lose money feedi-

"AAHHH!!!" A scream tore from Clark's mouth as his insides suddenly twisted in agony. He fell, skidding along the ground, creating a furrow as physics forced him out of superspeed.

He screamed again, raw and bloodcurdling, wrapping his arms around his stomach. Ripping, tearing pain sliced through his abdomen. He curled into a ball on his side, face pressed hard against the dirt and chuff of the fallow field. Tears burned rapid paths down his cheeks, and his shallow gasps of breath sounded loud and harsh in his ears.

More pain, another scream, and he defecated in his shorts. Under his arm, the lump on his abdomen moved.

Gritting his teeth, he fought against the waves of agony spearing through him and uncurled enough to look down at himself. With concentrated effort, he managed to x-ray through his skin just long enough to see that the egg had moved down the fertility tube.

His next scream echoed in the evening sky, causing a flock of birds in the field to abruptly take flight. He shat uncontrollably again as his body attempted to expel the egg.

It was ridiculous and would be uproariously funny if it didn't hurt so horribly much. Clark was laying an egg. Another ear-piercing scream tore from his throat. Sweat soaked his clothing and beads ran down his face, mixing with his tears, making him itch. The smell of feces invaded his nostrils. Another splitting cry, and the smell got worse.

The haze of agony had prevented Clark from remembering the cell phone jammed in the front pocket of his shorts. He found it as he ripped the soiled shorts and boxers from his body. His mom had purchased it for him just in case he was away from home when the baby decided to arrive. Like now.

"Hello?"

It was his dad who answered the phone. "Dad," Clark whimpered, phone pressed between his ear and the ground. "Help. Help meee-AAHHH!!!"

The pain was blinding, centered in his lower back and colon. The egg was forcing its way past the opening beneath the prostate into his anus.

"...-ark! Where are you? Talk to me, son!" Jonathan was shouting over the line, when Clark could focus again.

Clark went over his route in his mind, trying to determine how far he'd gotten. "Kierson," he ground out between tightly clenched teeth. "Kierson's fie-."

Another cry of agony, choked back down. A harsh sob. "Help, Dad. Please help."

"I'm coming, Clark. Hold on," Jonathan said frantically, the sounds of the truck in the background. "You just hold on..."

Clark couldn't hear any longer. Fire burned up and down his spine. Sparkling shards of the sharpest torture ripped him from the inside out. His scream broke his voice, his mouth remaining open in a silent wail.

The egg passed from his body, followed by a gushing of liquid that sizzled and crackled as it bathed the egg and ground. The stench of acid burned his nostrils. His insides quivered as they returned to normal.

The pain was gone as swiftly and suddenly as it had arrived, and it made Clark tremble. He breathed in several large gulps of air, fighting back the sobs of relief, before craning his neck to see behind him. He could just make out the top of the egg, which was the size of a rugby ball. It was milky white in color, and was dissolving rapidly.

It took all his effort, plus a minute more, for him to turn around. By then, he was coated in dirt and feces, and more tired than he'd ever been in his life. It didn't matter, though, because the egg had partially dissolved, revealing a kicking, flailing, tiny infant covered by a thin mucus-like membrane. The membrane covered his entire body, expanding and contracting around his mouth and nose.

With shaking hands, Clark peeled the membrane from the newborn, rolling onto his back when the baby was free, keeping him away from the acidic substance bathing the egg. The baby let out a lusty cry.

Clark began to laugh, even as the tears rolled down his face once again.

* * *

"Clark!"

Jonathan jumped from the truck barely after putting it in parking gear. He could see Clark in the middle of Kierson's fallow field, lying in a shallow ditch. He ran towards Clark, heart pounding in fear. Things may be tense between them, but Clark was still his son and even the idea that Clark was in pain seared Jonathan's gut. "Clark!"

A baby's cry greeted Jonathan first, as he got closer to Clark, followed by the stench of acid and dung. The smell made Jonathan's eyes water and his throat burn. He forced himself to take shallow breaths and rushed over to his son's side. "Clark, son, I'm here."

"Dad." Clark smiled wearily. He was flat on the ground, half-naked, cradling a tiny, squalling infant against his chest. "It's a boy."

Jonathan knelt beside Clark. He took in the fragments of what looked to be an egg on the other side of Clark, Clark's grime-streaked face, and finally the human-looking child nearly hidden under Clark's large hand. Jonathan realized, then, that he was a witness to a miracle.

Tears welled in his eyes, and he smiled as he brushed his son's matted hair from his forehead. "Congratulations, Clark. What are you going to name him?"

Clark lifted his head, looking down at the baby's reddish, bald head. "Samuel," he answered in a soft, tender voice. "Samuel David Kent."

The baby snuffled, his crying tapering off. Green-blue eyes fluttered before falling completely shut.

Clark dropped his head back, green-blue eyes blinking sleepily as well. Jonathan looked lovingly at him. "Come on, let's go home."

Jonathan helped Clark to his feet, grabbed the ripped clothing and cell phone, and assisted him to the truck. Jonathan made a mental note to return later to take care of the egg remains and cover over the furrow in the ground.

The careful drive home was made in silence, Clark never removing his eyes from the sleeping infant in his arms. Jonathan helped him again, from the truck into the house, leaving him standing in the kitchen while Jonathan detoured quickly to the laundry room to change his shirt and wash his hands, both dirtied from helping Clark.

Clark looked like he was asleep on his feet when Jonathan returned to the kitchen. Jonathan smiled fondly and reached for Sam. "Why don't you go get cleaned up?" he prompted. "It'll give me a chance to bond with my grandson."

"Okay," Clark agreed, though he was reluctant to give up the child. He slowly handed Sam to Jonathan, caressing the little boy's head, before sighing, toeing off his sneakers, and heading upstairs.

Jonathan knew he wouldn't have long. From personal experience, he knew that Clark would loathe to allow his new son out of his sight.

"Hello, Sam," Jonathan greeted the baby in his arms, not feeling silly at all talking to a sleeping child. "I'm your grandpa. Your daddy's daddy." Though that wasn't entirely true. Clark, by human standards, would be considered the mother since he'd carried the child inside his body. Lex Luthor was the father.

Jonathan scowled, wishing he'd gone with his gut instinct and gelded Luthor when he first noticed the way the bald child molester looked at Clark.

Sam fussed slightly, and Jonathan's scowl was wiped away. No matter how he felt about Sam's parentage, Sam was precious. Jonathan and Martha both firmly believed that every child was a blessing, including one fathered by a Luthor. Jonathan shifted Sam in his arms and studied the newborn curiously. On the outside, Sam looked like a human baby. Two arms, two legs, ten fingers and ten toes. Two little baby nipples and natural male genitalia. His naval dipped inward, although there was no evidence of an umbilical cord having ever been present.

Sam was small, smaller than normal newborns, approximately eight or nine-inches in length. He had a regular baby's plumpness, though, and didn't seem to be effected by any preemie-type afflictions.

Jonathan was reluctant to acknowledge it, but Sam looked like Lex. The resemblance was noticeable, even this early in Sam's life. Jonathan had read the baby books Martha had purposely left out for him to find, and he knew the first-born child usually looked like his father.

Jonathan sighed, brushing his fingers over the baby's soft skin. He was going to have to sit down with Clark and Martha and have a serious conversation about raising Sam, Clark's alien abilities, and Lex's role in Sam's life.

"He's a lot less furry than the babies you usually hold."

Jonathan looked up as Clark descended the stairs, clean and fully dressed. Jonathan smiled playfully at his son. "But he's just as adorable."

"Yeah, he is." Clark's expression was tender as he accepted Sam from Jonathan. "He looks like Lex."

Jonathan stiffened, then exhaled slowly. Well, he had wanted to make amends with Clark, and this was the perfect opportunity to do so. "I agree, especially without hair."

Clark glanced warily at his father. "Are you making fun of my child?"

"Actually, I was making fun of Lex," Jonathan admitted, "and I was joking."

Clark smiled suddenly, one of the beaming ones that Jonathan hadn't seen in months. "Don't worry, Dad. I thought the same thing."

Jonathan relaxed, chuckled, and lightly clapped Clark on the shoulder. "Are you hungry?"

"Starved."

"Go sit down," Jonathan instructed. "I'll fix us some supper."

"We should probably call Mom," Clark said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "She's going to be mad that I won't be able to help tonight."

"Oh, I think she'll get over it quickly," Jonathan said. He paused, cleared his throat, and added, "I'm sorry, Clark."

Clark ducked his head. "Yeah, me too."

"Okay, then. Supper." Jonathan walked to the refrigerator. "Any preferences?"

"Soup?"

Jonathan looked back at Clark. "Clark, it's ninety-five degrees outside."

"I know, but I'd rather stick with liquids." Clark made a face. "After what happened earlier, I want to avoid having to go to the bathroom for awhile."

"Speaking of," Jonathan headed to the pantry, "you'd better put a diaper on Sam before you have to take another shower."

"Good idea. I think Mom hid the diapers in the laundry room." Clark stood and wandered that direction, continuing to speak to Jonathan. "You know, Sam looks like me on the inside, so we won't be able to take him to the doctor, which is one of the first things to do on Mom's list."

"What else is on the list?"

"Filing the paternity and getting some size-appropriate clothes," Clark replied. "Mom wanted to wait until Sam arrived before buying a bunch of baby clothes."

"That's smart of her."

"Yeah." Clark re-emerged, with Sam diapered and covered with a thin yellow blanket. "She also said I have a month before I have to find a job, so I can get used to having Sam around."

Jonathan cranked open a can of tomato soup. He'd make grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches to go with it. "It's going to be difficult having a baby in the house. You were already such a little man when you found us."

"Well, I've read that babies are really aliens in disguise," Clark commented with a wry grin.

"Then, I guess we won't have any problems, will we?"

Clark laughed, and all was right once more between father and son.

_Part Three_

"Hi, Mrs. Kent," Chloe greeted, entering the kitchen through the back door. Friends needn't knock in Smallville; it was an unwritten custom, just like always using the back door. "I've come to kidnap your Clark-shaped son."

Martha was standing at the island counter, paring apples. She smiled in welcome, but the expression was a little strained. "Hello, Chloe."

Chloe shut the door behind her, keeping the heat out. It was only 10:00 AM and it was already well over ninety degrees outside. She removed her bright pink floppy hat, wiped her forehead with her bare forearm, and tucked the hat in her back pocket. "Phew. This trip to Jackson's Hole might be a short one, although it is a lot cooler underground."

Jackson's Hole was an old sod house built into the ground. A rumor had made its rounds that the place became recently haunted. It was a perfect story for the Torch Online. So far, this summer's only excitement had been when Freddie got stuck in the drainage ditch pipe and didn't want to be rescued because it was cooler in there than at his house.

"Chloe, I don't think Clark will be going with you today," Martha said, not unkindly.

A quick frown worried Chloe's brow. "Oh. I thought it was already cleared with you. Unless he's sick. Clark's not sick, right? He never gets sick."

"No, he's not sick," Martha assured her. Clark's footsteps sounded on the stairs as Martha moved to the sink. "I'll let him explain."

Chloe looked expectantly towards the stairs leading to the second floor, wondering what they mystery was about. Did Clark somehow manage to get grounded between yesterday evening and this morning?

Clark rounded the landing, and the first thing Chloe noticed was the bottle in his right hand. He was cradling something in his left arm. A baby?

Clark's strained smile of hello echoed his mom's when he saw Chloe. "Hey, Chloe."

"Hey, yourself," Chloe returned as Clark finished his descent. He was, indeed, carrying a baby. A very tiny baby, who instantly triggered her girly genes. "Who's this adorable little one?"

Clark glanced at Martha and seemed to fortify himself, as if what he was about to say would alter Chloe's world.

It did.

"This is Sam," Clark said. "My son."

Chloe blinked several times, smiling pleasantly, a reaction of hers to shock. "I'm sorry. I must have misheard you. Did you say your son?"

"You heard right." Clark set the half-empty bottle on the counter. "Sam finished half the bottle this time, Mom."

"Good," Martha said. "Do you remember what to do next?"

"Change him, then put him down for a nap," Clark answered. He looked down at Sam. "Or, continue his nap, since he fell asleep while I was feeding him."

"Son?" Chloe couldn't believe it. "Like, as in, you are the father of that baby?"

"It's Sam. And yes," Clark said. He started upstairs again. Chloe followed on his heels.

"But how? When? With who? And why didn't you say anything before now?" Chloe asked in rapid-fire succession. She was unable to wrap her mind around the fact that Clark Kent had a child. It was Clark. Mr. Perfect. He couldn't even say the word "sex," let alone do it.

Chloe paused in the doorway to Clark's bedroom, taking in the changes. A bright yellow crib was pushed against the wall opposite Clark's bed. A white changing table with drawers was beside it. There was a laundry basket under the crib, filled with infant toys. Her reporter's instincts told her Sam's appearance was not a surprise.

Chloe joined Clark at the changing table. She tried to examine Sam objectively, even though she mostly wanted to coo at him. He was so, so cute. Teeny-tiny hands and feet. Itty-bitty fingers and toes. His entire upper body was hidden by Clark's hand spanning his chest, gently holding him in place as his cloth diaper was removed.

"Well?" she prompted, watching as Sam's face scrunched. He didn't cry, though.

"There's not much to tell, Chloe," Clark said. "I went to a party with Lex last October, I met someone, things happened, and now I'm a father."

Chloe narrowed her eyes. His answer sounded rehearsed. Then again, Clark usually spouted rote answers when trying to keep something private. "Where's the mother?"

"Gone. She didn't want Sam, but didn't believe in abortion. It was left to me to decide if I wanted to give him up for adoption or not. I chose not."

Another pat answer, but wholly plausible. Chloe handed Clark the safety pin and he finished fastening Sam's clean diaper. "You could have told me sooner, Clark."

"I know," Clark said, dumping the dirty diaper in the diaper pail.

Chloe waited for him to make his excuses. He didn't. The rebuff stung. Clark fastened the blue onesie over Sam's diaper, picked him up, and held him towards Chloe. "Would you like to hold him?"

The sting lessened slightly. "I'd love to," Chloe said, taking him. She carefully cradled Sam in her arms, remembering to support his head, and gave in to the urge to coo. "Hi, Sam. I'm your Aunt Chloe, one of your daddy's best friends, even though he seems to forget that sometimes."

"Chloe," Clark grumbled, putting away the A&D and baby wipes.

Undaunted, Chloe continued speaking to the baby. "His other best friend, your Uncle Pete, is going to have a cow. Yes, he is. Yes, he is. A very big mooooo."

Sam opened his eyes. They were the same slightly slanted, startling green-blue that she'd been writing sappy poems about since meeting Clark. There was no mistake: Sam was definitely Clark's child.

"Wow, Clark," Chloe whispered as reality fully hit her. "You're a father." She looked over at him. "Your parents must have flipped."

Clark ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. "Yeah. Mom's okay with it, or at least she's pretending to be. Dad didn't talk to me for months, not until Sam arrived last night."

Chloe rocked gently, watching as Sam's eyes fell shut again. "So, what are you going to do now, Mr. Mom?"

"Get a job and raise Sam, like any other single parent."

"Are you going to move out?" Chloe asked.

"No, I'll still be living here until I'm at least eighteen." Clark walked over to her and she reluctantly gave up Sam. "I won't be going back to school, though."

"You're dropping out?" The remainder of Chloe's high school career would be sans Clark? She couldn't imagine what that would be like, and she had a very vivid imagination.

"Yeah," Clark replied. "I'll take the GED test next summer." He laid Sam in the crib and brushed his fingertips along Sam's cheek. "'Night, little guy. See you in a few hours."

Clark ushered Chloe out of the bedroom. She was still flummoxed by Clark's announcement about not returning to school. It was almost more of a shock than Sam. Everything was going to be different. She wasn't going to see Clark everyday. She was losing a really good reporter for the paper. When they got together, she would talk about trivial stuff, like homework and bad cafe food, when he was experience real life stuff, like full-time employment and childcare. In fact, Clark might not have time for her at all. She was going to lose one of her best friends. It was inevitable. She'd seen the After School Special, and despite being hokey, they always fell true.

"You're not coming to Jackson's Hole today, are you?" Chloe said.

Clark shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Chloe lied, as the first step towards inevitability was made. She removed her hat from her pocket and plunked in on her head. "I'll stop next door and bribe Lana into coming with me."

They went downstairs. Chloe barely paused to say goodbye to Martha as she headed out the back door. "Bye, Mrs. Kent."

"Bye, Chloe," Martha said.

"Bye, Chloe," Clark echoed.

Chloe smiled with false brightness before pulling the door shut, leaving her alone outside in the heat.

* * *

Clark and Sam Kent were the hottest topic in town within days of Sam's birth. No one could believe that the perfect Kent boy was a sixteen-year-old father. That sort of thing was supposed to happen to those punks, not someone like Clark. "It's a shame. He was always such a good boy," was said. "It must have been that Luthor kid's bad influence. Didn't Clark used to be friends with him? Such a pity that Clark's kindness with everyone included that Lex Luthor."

Martha and Jonathan were pitied, but not blamed, for Clark's indiscretions. The Kents were pillars of the community. Their adopted child must have gotten his sinfulness from his biological parents.

The gossip and locker room talk ripped Clark's "good name" to shreds once school began again. The guys made fun of his sexual prowess, betting the virgin lasted all of five seconds and was lucky he even found the hole to put his dick in. The females blamed him for getting some poor girl pregnant, and it served him right for her making him take responsibility for Sam. The students all agreed on one thing, though: "Shy, geeky Kent. Who knew?"

Chloe, Lana, and Pete defended Clark as best as they could, although Pete was angry with Clark for a while for not sharing that he'd lost his virginity. "You probably told Lex," Pete had accused sullenly. Since Lex was actually the person to take his virginity, Clark hadn't needed to tell him, which made the lie fall easier from Clark's lips.

Lying was a fact of life for Clark, but added to it this time around was shame. For a long time, he was embarrassed and uncomfortable going out in public, whether running errands in town or hanging out with his friends. He knew what people were saying about him, and the pitying, disgusted looks he received from the older townsfolk were worse than the jeers from his ex-classmates. As a result, more lies were told to his friends about being okay sitting at the Talon with them, or when he said it didn't bother him when they talked about school and the Torch. He lied when he said he was sorry for breaking a group 'date', not telling them that he'd rather stay home than see them, which happened more and more often as time passed.

Clark was extremely ashamed of himself, for not wanting to be with his friends, for sullying the Kent name, for causing embarrassment to his parents. However, he didn't let slip to anyone about how he felt, except to Sam during his late night feedings.

Clark wasn't ashamed of Sam, though, and he told off anyone who dared to say anything negative about his son. Sam may have been an accident, but he was not a mistake. He was the best thing Clark had ever done with his alien abilities and meant more to him than anyone, even his parents and his own life. Clark would move heaven and earth for his child, something that was possible when he learned he could fly.

Being a father wasn't easy, Clark learned very quickly. Sam hardly slept and required constant activity, or else he cried. Consequently, Clark also hardly slept and was constantly worn out. He was quite happy to leave Sam with Grandma and Grandpa five evenings a week so he could get some rest while at work. Clark had gotten a job at the LuthorCorp Plant, working second shift in the maintenance department. He'd had to obtain a work permit, signed by his parents, in order to work full-time, and even then the only place that would hire him was the plant because of his lack of a high school diploma. The pay was slightly better than average and he managed to sock away a reasonable amount out of each paycheck for the future.

Working full-time was nothing like going to school and Clark told his friends to hold off becoming an adult as long as possible. Sick days meant no pay and there was no summer vacation, winter or spring breaks off. Clark received an unpaid week of vacation per year, increasing to two weeks after he'd been employed for five years. The job itself wasn't too bad, but it wasn't challenging, either. Being a father, however, required certain sacrifices and Clark accepted them, although not happily (but he hid his unhappiness well).

Lex was one of the hardest sacrifices that he had to make. Clark had wanted so badly to talk to Lex about his feelings of ashamedness and the problems he had adjusting to being both a teenager and a parent, even if he couldn't share that Sam was Lex's son, too. Lex would have told Clark some historical or philosophical anecdote on the greatest parents, followed by a cutting remark about his own upbringing, to make Clark feel better.

Lex was never straightforward, a trait that both amused and annoyed Clark. It would have been nice if Lex would just say, "I think this," instead of, "In fifteen BC..." It took awhile, but Clark had figured out that Lex was actually insecure, not believing that anyone would listen to his own opinions on something. He used history as a way to convey his thoughts without having the blame being pinned on him if the advice turned out badly and, conveniently, none of the hurt, either, if the advice was not followed. It was also the sign of someone who'd had a very solitary childhood, who didn't have friends to keep him distracted from reading book after book.

Clark hadn't called Lex on it, because he was afraid it would make Lex clam up all together. Lex was a very cautious man and didn't let anyone get too close. Clark was probably the closest person to Lex and he hardly knew anything about what made Lex tick. Clark knew Lex was a good man, though, someone who tried to show his caring by spending money on things for others. It was too bad people saw it as either bribery or snobbery, like Jonathan Kent. No matter how many times Clark tried to explain it, the Luthor name and his own past associations with Lionel blinded Jonathan.

It didn't matter, though, since Clark wouldn't be seeing Lex again. Lex was Clark's alibi. If he found out, he would undoubtedly lie for Clark, but would demand the truth in return and that was something Clark could not give him. Clark didn't want to hurt Lex by blatantly denying him the trust he craved. So, Clark suffered alone with his shame and teenage woes. The pregnancy part hadn't bothered him, once he'd accepted that it happened and had told his parents. It had almost seemed unreal, as did the first two weeks after Sam was born. It hadn't been until Clark had brought Sam up to the loft to show him the telescope, musing about how he'd let Sam operate it in the future, that reality had set in.

Clark had sat down quickly, holding his son close to his chest. He'd stared at Sam in fear and awe for a very long time. Clark was a father. He was responsible for creating the little boy in his arms. What he did would determine whether Sam lived or died, barring unforeseen circumstances. He would be the one to show Sam all the things Jonathan had shown Clark. He would have to try and explain why Sam had two fathers and how one of them was from another planet. He would have to teach Sam to keep secrets and how to lie.

That night, Clark'd had his first serious conversation with Jonathan in a very long while, pouring out his fears about fatherhood. Jonathan had told him that the secret was to take things one day at a time. The platitude was the best advice Clark had ever gotten from his dad. It helped greatly when he learned that Sam was an exceptionally gifted child.

_Part Four_

"Dad, where does the pee go?"

"Into the septic tank buried in the yard."

"Is that why some of the grass is yellow?"

"Uh... no. I don't think so."

"Then why is the grass yellow?"

"Because, um, it's thirsty."

"Why doesn't it drink the pee then?"

Clark looked exasperatedly at his son. "It can't if you don't go potty."

"But I don't have to go." Sam blinked guileless green-blue eyes up at Clark.

"You did two minutes ago."

"I changed my mind."

Clark reminded himself that throttling his child was against the law. There really needed to be a clause excluding parents potty-training their children. "All right, kiddo." Clark crouched and pulled up the redhead's training pants and trousers. "If you change your mind again, let me or Grandma know."

"Okay." Sam darted out of the bathroom without a by-your-leave. A few seconds later, Clark heard the back screen door open and shut.

Clark straightened, catching sight of his harried expression in the mirror. "Lex, I am never going to forgive you," he muttered, combing his hands through his raven hair.

Clark thought of Lex often, despite the number of years that had passed. Granted, he was usually cursing Lex because of something their son had done, but still, Lex was seldom far from Clark's thoughts. It was hard for Clark not to think of him, when he could see so much of Lex in Sam.

Clark surveyed his appearance in the mirror. Satisfied that he looked more like a normal person and less like the parent of an overly smart two-year-old, Clark left the first floor bathroom and headed outside into the pleasant spring morning.

To find Sam peeing on the yellow grass.

Clark groaned and sank, defeated, onto the back porch step. It was no use scolding Sam. It was Clark's own fault for saying that the yellow grass was thirsty and was waiting for Sam's urine. He blamed Lex for having a toddler who could use applied logic.

"It doesn't look like Sam gets a star today."

"Don't start, Mom."

Martha came outside and sat down beside Clark, laughing lightly. "You did the same thing, Clark, when we were toilet-training you. Why do you think the grass is yellow?"

Clark groaned again and dropped his head in his hands. "You enjoy watching me suffer."

"I'm the grandma. Of course, I do." Martha rubbed a hand on his back. "How are your eyes?"

"A little tired from practicing, but I won't accidentally cut anyone in half." Clark had been blessed with yet another special alien ability earlier in the week, one that had almost killed his child.

Clark had been checking on Sam after work when his vision suddenly went red. Terror unlike anything he'd ever felt filled him as a hole was burned into the crib above Sam's ear. Sam's hair was singed, burned off close to his scalp by Clark's eyes.

Clark had slammed his eyes shut, pressing his palms tightly over them, and screamed for his parents. "Sam! Check Sam! Is he okay? Oh, God, Sam, is he okay?"

Sam had been scared, but fine. Martha had watched him while Jonathan took Clark outside. It was an extremely long forty-eight hours before Clark had been able to control his newfound laser-vision.

Clark sighed, propping his chin on his hands, elbows on his bent knees, and watched as Sam returned to the math flash cards scattered on the back lawn - luckily, well away from the yellow grass. "I hope the laser-vision is the last of it," Clark commented to his mom. "I'm kind of tired of adding new powers to my freak repertoire."

"Clark, you're not a freak," Martha chided gently.

"Mom, how many people do you know that can fly? Or see through walls? Or burn the walls with their eyes? Or can freeze things with their breath? Or can hold their breath indefinitely?" Clark said. "Should I go on?"

"No, honey, you shouldn't." Martha sighed. "I wish I had the magic words to make you feel better about your gifts."

"It's okay, Mom," Clark said, rubbing a weary hand over his face. "I'm just whining because I didn't sleep again last night."

"Still having nightmares?" Martha asked concernedly.

"I almost hurt Sam. I think I'll be having nightmares for a long time."

Clark stood and crossed to where his son sat shuffling the flash cards. He swooped down without warning, scooped Sam into his arms, and pressed a loud, smacking kiss to the back of Sam's neck. Sam squealed, the flash cards scattering to the ground.

It shouldn't be possible, but Clark loved Sam more with each passing day. Everyday was an adventure, too, and chaotic was a simplistic label to life with Sam Kent.

Sam was an exceptionally gifted child. The Stanford-Binet (Form L-M) test placed his IQ at 203 by his second birthday; base genius level IQ was 160. He could already read at a college level, used applied logic, and was learning mathematics at an exceedingly fast rate. Clark wagered that by Sam's third birthday, he'd be starting calculus.

Like Clark, Sam's memory was exceptional, which meant watching what you said was imperative. Sam's curiosity knew no limits and he constantly asked questions. He was fascinated by mechanics and how things worked. The only reason the farm and household appliances weren't dismantled to see their inner workings was because, while Sam had a super-smart brain, his body was still that of a toddler.

Clark set Sam on his feet, fixing his shirt before letting him go. Across the way, a dark pick-up truck pulled to a stop in front of Nell Potter's house. Clark shielded his eyes, and a large smile crossed his face when he saw who emerged from the cab. Spotting Clark in return, Lana Lang waved in greeting and started in his direction.

"Hey, champ, look who's home," Clark said to Sam, pointing.

Sam shaded his eyes like his father and looked where Clark pointed. He yelled in childish delight. "Dad, it's Miss Lana! Miss Lana's back!"

Sam took off running, with Clark following behind at a more leisurely pace. His grin grew when Lana caught Sam up in a hug, ruffling his short red hair.

"Hi, Lana," Clark greeted affectionately when Sam paused in his mile-a-minute speaking to take a breath. "We were wondering when you'd be home."

"Well, here I am, back for the summer." Lana shifted Sam on her hip. "How are you guys holding up?"

"Okay," Clark replied. "It's been kind of quiet with you gone." It had also been very lonely. Clark's friendship with Pete and Chloe had drifted somewhat apart. School, the Torch, and their own internships and employment had cut into the time they had to spend with Clark, as did Clark's working second shift. Clark had also withdrawn into himself, shying away from people once Sam had arrived, focusing all his attention on his son instead of his own friendships.

Lana had been a constant in Clark's life, though. She was always there, next door or at the Talon, with a ready smile and open ears, until she went off to college last fall. She still caused a funny feeling in Clark's stomach, too, but he had given up the idea of pursuing her romantically when she left for school. Sam squirmed in Lana's arms and she set him down. He pointed at the yellowed grass at her feet. "Miss Lana, the grass is thirsty."

Clark felt his cheeks heat. "Oh, geez."

Lana gave him a questioning look before crouching to Sam's level. "What should we do?" she asked Sam.

"You have to pee on it," Sam told her wisely.

"I do, do I?" Lana shot an amused smile at a wholly embarrassed Clark.

"Yes."

"But I thought grass liked to drink water," Lana said.

Sam's lips pursed slightly, his reddish-blond brows drawing down in thought. Clark felt a pang in his heart. Sam looked so much like Lex at that moment; it was hard to believe that Lana couldn't see it. She wouldn't make the connection, though. Familial recognition in children was almost impossible to determine unless it was assumed or pointed out. Clark had tested the theory at the park. He had been unable to match any of the children running around the playground with their parents, but when a mom or dad picked up their child the family resemblance was obvious.

"I'd better get it a drink of water, then," Sam said finally, before rushing off back to the Kent house.

Lana straightened, still smiling. "He just gets more adorable every time I see him."

Clark snorted, keeping one eye on Sam until he reached Martha, who was still seated on the back step. "That's because you don't have to see him everyday."

"Oh, come on," Lana said knowingly. "You think he's great, too."

"Yeah, great at driving me bananas," Clark said, turning to her. "Don't ever have children if you value your sanity."

"I'll keep that in mind." Lana tucked her hands in her pockets. "So, Mr. Kent, how have you been?"

"Okay, I guess." Clark shrugged. "I got a raise at the plant, of two whole cents. I'm thinking of buying a Ferrari."

Lana laughed. "And here I pictured you as the Porsche type."

"Nah. Not enough leg room."

"You are rather tall," Lana said. "Do you think Sam will be as tall as you?"

"It's possible," Clark said. "He's growing pretty fast. He's sprouted up three inches in the past two months alone."

"Gosh. I remember how tiny he was as a baby," she said. "I can't believe he's going to be three years old already, in August."

"I know." Clark saw Sam come out of the house, with a cup in his hand, and start walking carefully towards them, trying not to spill. Clark's heart filled with emotion. It seemed like it was yesterday that he had held his son for the first time, yet it also seemed like Sam had always been in his life.

"I got the grass a drink of water, Miss Lana," Sam announced.

"I'm sure the grass appreciates it, Sam," Lana said, not talking down to him. Some people found it hard to remember that Sam was smarter than most adults in spite of his age, but Lana never forgot.

Lana helped Sam pour the water over the yellow grass, answering his questions about how grass could drink without having a mouth. She'd make a good mother, Clark thought. He briefly entertained the thought of her being Sam's mother and, consequently, Clark's wife, but it didn't sit right. Lana was destined to be Clark's friend and that was all. Funnily, he had no problems with that.

"Well, the grass is no longer thirsty," Lana said to Sam, "but I bet a certain little boy is. How about you, me, and your dad go down to the Talon and have a Kiddie Cola?"

"Yeah!" Sam exclaimed.

"Clark?" Lana questioned.

Clark glanced at his watch. "We can do that. I don't have to be at work until four, so there's plenty of time. Do you want to take my car?"

"That would be fine," Lana said. "Just let me run inside for a minute and I'll be right over."

* * *

Lana adored Sam Kent. She almost adored Clark Kent more, for his courage and tenacity to raise a child on his own at his age. To become a father at sixteen had to have been hard on Clark, harder than he let on during their few talks on her porch swing. She honestly didn't think she could have been as good of a parent as he was to Sam, especially since Sam was not a "normal" child.

Lana wished that she loved Clark. He was the perfect man: kind, caring, handsome, and responsible. No matter how hard she'd tried, though, she just couldn't see him as anything but a brother, or as a quiet, reserved friend. The Talon was relatively empty due to the early hour of the day. Marlene, the day manager, was doing paperwork at one of the tables. The radio played over the speakers, filling the coffeehouse with country music.

Lana walked behind the Talon's counter, immediately feeling at home. She was majoring in business in college, planning to return to Smallville and run the Talon full-time after she graduated. "Okay, we have one Kiddie Cola and, Clark, you'll have...?"

"A lemonade, please," Clark answered, lifting Sam up and sitting him on a counter stool.

"Coming right up."

"Lana, will you watch Sam for a sec?" Clark asked.

"Of course," Lana replied. Clark thanked her and headed back towards the restrooms.

Sam took one of the menus from the holder on the counter and began to calculate the prices. "Let me see, $1.99 plus $1.99 is $3.98, $3.98 plus $2.99 is $6.97." "Wow, Sam, that's very good," Lana commented, always impressed by how smart Sam was, as she set his small cola with a curly straw in front of him. Clark had told her in the car that Sam had just started learning math earlier in the week and was already close to memorizing his division tables, after having memorized addition, subtraction, and multiplication.

"Pluses, minuses, and timeses are easy," Sam informed her. "I'm still learning my un-timeses."

"You mean addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division," Lana corrected. "I know that." Sam sounded annoyed. He went back to his menu.

Lana turned to pour Clark his lemonade, hiding her smile. Sam didn't like to be corrected. It was one of the quirks of being a genius child.

"Miss Lana, what's tax?"

"It's a way for the government to take your hard-earned money and give it to the bums on the street."

Lana turned quickly, almost spilling the lemonade. "Mr. Luthor."

"Miss Lang, how delightful to see you." Lionel Luthor smiled showily, standing on the opposite side of the counter. "I trust you are doing well?"

"I am," Lana said warily. Lionel unnerved her, despite his being a family friend. "What can I do for you today?"

"No need to worry, dear. I'm just passing through town and wanted to see how Lex's little investment had shaped up," Lionel said. He looked around proprietarily. "Not bad."

"I'm glad you approve," she said, with a touch of sarcasm.

"Now, Miss Lang, there's no reason to get snippy." Lionel picked up the menu in front of Sam on the counter.

"Hey, mister! That's my menu! Get your own," Sam protested, climbing onto his knees to reach the menu.

Lionel glanced at Sam and did a subtle double-take. "My apologies," he said, handing Sam the menu. He looked at Lana. "I'll have a number seven, to go."

Lana nodded, and addressed Sam. "Sam, you know the rules, bottom on the seat." She waited until he sat down before filling Lionel's order, keeping an eye on Sam as she did so.

"Number seven costs $3.99 plus tax," Sam read. He looked up at Lionel. "How much do we have to pay the bums?"

Lionel smirked. "Too much."

Sam scowled. "That's not an answer, mister. Paying means a money number."

Lana knew she should give Sam the answer, but she wouldn't mind seeing Lionel try to match wits with a toddler and, hopefully, lose.

"A money number, huh?" Lionel narrowed his eyes at Sam. "How old are you?"

"I'm two and three-quarters. I'll be three on August eighth," Sam said, his face darkening more. "And it's rude not to answer a question."

"You're right, it is rude," Lionel agreed. He sat on the stool beside Sam, leaning an arm on the counter, seeming very interested in Sam. "Sales tax in Kansas is five percent. Do you know how to calculate percentages?"

"No. Will you teach me?"

"I don't know. I think percentages might be too hard for you, young man."

"It would not be too hard. I'm a smarty-pants. My dad says so," Sam declared.

"He does?" Lionel said. "And who is your father?"

"I am."

Clark came around Lionel and laid a hand on Sam's shoulder, as Lana put Lionel's coffee on the counter. Clark's expression was unfriendly, which was very rare for him. He might be quiet and tended to keep to himself, but he was never discourteous or hostile.

Lionel tapped his fingers on the counter, eyeing Clark. "You're Jonathan Kent's boy. Kevin, right?"

"Clark," Clark corrected flatly.

"Ah, yes, Clark," Lionel said. "I didn't recognize you without your halo."

Sam craned his neck to look up at Clark. "You have a halo? Where? Can I see it?"

Clark's expression softened when he looked down at Sam. "Mr. Luthor is being facetious, Sam."

"Oh." Sam scowled at Lionel. "Grandpa says, if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."

"Then I'd best keep my lips zipped, eh?" Lionel took his coffee, stood, and nodded to all three of them. "Miss Lang, Mr. Kent, Sam."

Clark relaxed noticeably after Lionel left, though he still seemed tense. He sunk down on Lionel's abandoned stool and asked Lana, "What did he want?"

"Nothing. Just passing through," Lana replied, hoping it was true. The Talon was her baby, and in spite of Lex being the primary investor, Lionel still held sway.

"Dang. I hope this doesn't mean layoffs at the plant." Clark glanced worriedly over his shoulder towards the door. "Jobs are scarce in town, especially with the college kids returning for the summer."

Lana patted Clark's hand. "I'm sure everything's fine, Clark."

* * *

An hour later, Clark was still worried about Lionel Luthor's visit, despite Lana's reassurances. A Luthor hadn't stepped foot into Smallville in three years, not since Lex had left. It didn't bode well, on either a professional or personal level.

Lionel was Lex's father, who was Sam's father in turn. The danger of Sam's parentage being discovered was highest with Lionel. Clark had pictures of Lex when he was young for the baby book, printed out from old newspapers and magazine articles, and Sam was nearly identical to little Lex: same bright red hair, same pale freckled skin, same young facial features.

Clark's fear with Lionel was, that he would suspect Sam's father was really Lex and that Clark had somehow adopted the illegitimate child. Lionel could cause all sorts of problems with the paternity, questioning the lack of birth certificate, requesting blood tests, and investigating the nameless mother.

Clark removed Sam's baby book from the table drawer and sat on the worn couch in the Fortress of Solitude. Sam was in the house, eating lunch with Martha and Jonathan. Clark had begged off the meal, needing some time alone to sort out his fears. His parents understood and agreed to watch Sam without question.

Even though Martha and Jonathan were always there, they were the grandparents and Clark had to ask if they'd keep an eye on Sam during the day. The arrangement worked out great. Clark didn't know what he would do without his parents. They had been an unwavering source of support as he traveled the road of fatherhood. They also helped him to decide when and how to tell Sam about Lex, which was why Clark had added as much about Lex as he could to the baby book.

The baby book was divided into sections. The first page was Sam's birth information: birthdate, size, weight, and a newborn photo. The next section was mother's history, followed by father's history. The rest of the book was divided by the child's age, a year per section, with space for photos as well as places to write pertinent information and anecdotal memories.

Clark had put his own history in the 'mother' section, since he was the parent to physically carry and bear Sam. Clark filled out the information with the Kent family genealogy, but left space to add information on his biological family if he ever learned it. He didn't write down anything about his being an alien or his abilities, but Sam already knew that his father wasn't like other people. With his intelligence, Sam understood the need for secrecy and thought it was great that his dad was special, too. If Sam developed gifts from being half-alien, Clark knew Sam would take it in stride.

He would probably not have a problem with Lex's role in his origins, either. Clark wished he could involve Lex in Sam's life now, but it had been three years since he'd last seen Lex and Clark didn't really know him anymore. Being almost nineteen gave Clark the choice of whom he told about his heritage, but now that he could he found that he didn't trust anyone enough to tell them.

Clark turned to the 'father' section of the baby book, where he had put all the information he could find on Lex. Clark's features darkened in worry when his gaze alighted on Lionel's picture. He needed to be prepared for anything, including a possible visit from Lex Luthor in the near future.

_Part Five_

Lex Luthor's office was located on the fifty-fourth floor of LuthorCorp Towers. The executive office was decorated in sterile grays and polished chrome. A wall of tinted windows looked out onto the city of Metropolis.

With one hand in the pocket of his tailored black trousers, Lex stood behind the glass-topped desk, looking out the window without seeing anything. Young, bald, with blue-gray eyes the color of steel, Lex's thoughts were focused inward as he debated the merits of purchasing Windsor Technologies as LuthorCorp or as a personal holding for his fledgling company, LexCorp.

To date, LexCorp had five scientific technological holdings, including Cadmus Labs, and had an estimated net worth of $470-million dollars. Not bad for two years of work, in Lex's opinion. LexCorp was slowly shaping into a contender in the world business market, and Lex had planned and developed the company on his own, completely free of Lionel Luthor's control. Lionel knew of LexCorp and "pretended" to let Lex play businessman, but he underestimated his son, and that would be the old man's downfall.

Lex was looking forward to that day.

The special buzzer Lex had installed for his secretary to warn him when his father was about to intrude buzzed, and Lex turned from the window as the oak doors were thrown open and Lionel Luthor strode into the office like he owned it. Technically, he did own it and the whole building, but that wouldn't be for long if Lex had his way.

"Dad," Lex greeted flatly, not moving from his spot by the window.

"Lex," Lionel intoned, seating himself royally on one of the matching black chairs on the opposite side of the glass-topped desk. "Tell me: did you spawn when you were in Smallville and fail to inform me about it?"

Lex did not allow his confusion to show. "No. Why?"

"Hmm." Lionel steepled his fingers under his chin. "I met this remarkable little boy earlier, bright red hair and mouthy attitude to match. It was like seeing you as a child all over again, back when you still did what I told you to do."

Lex did frown now. "A child that looks like me? How old?"

"Nearly three," Lionel answered, watching Lex intently.

Lex did the calculations in his head, subtracting roughly nine months for a pregnancy term. "I only slept with two women while I was in Smallville and both would have been demanding money if I would have knocked up either of them." He looked questioningly at Lionel. "Who does the kid say his father is?"

Lionel smiled like a shark. "Clark Kent."

Lex stilled, not a flicker of an eyelash revealing the sudden whirlwind of emotion the name invoked. "Clark?" he repeated without inflection. "Clark has a son?"

"Apparently, your innocent young friend isn't very innocent." Lionel narrowed his eyes. "You're certain the child cannot be yours?"

"Positive," Lex said, his thoughts in turmoil. Clark had a son?

"Very good." Lionel rose. "I'm off to Singapore in a few hours. I'll be back on Friday. I expect the buyout proposal for Windsor Tech to be in my hands the moment I walk through the door." He nodded. "Have a pleasant week."

Lionel left as officiously as he'd arrived. Lex turned to the window once more and stared out without seeing anything.

Clark Kent had a son. A nearly three-year-old son. It was a mind-boggling revelation.

Three years had passed since Lex had returned to Metropolis, with barely any communication between Lex and Clark. Lex had thrown himself headlong into business upon arriving in the city, wanting to show Lionel a thing or two. During his free time, he'd started LexCorp and concentrated on making the corporation a success. His social life was actually all business, with the occasional date to take care of his physical needs.

Lex was man enough to admit that he missed Clark's presence in his life. He missed Clark's curiosity and actual desire to want to know Lex better. He missed watching and aiding in the juvenile soap opera that was Clark's relationship with Lana Lang. He missed Clark's bright smile that never failed to coax a smile out of Lex in return. He missed the comfortable sense of rightness he felt whenever Clark was hanging around.

But that was in the past. Clark was a virtual stranger again and a father, no less, if Lionel was to be believed. Lex had to see the child for himself, because if Lionel was telling the truth, it would alter Lex's entire perspective of Clark Kent; for good or for bad, that was up in the air yet.

"Laura, prep the helicopter and cancel my appointments for the afternoon," Lex told his secretary as he passed her on the way to the elevator. "I want to leave for Smallville within ten minutes."

* * *

The forty-five minute helicopter flight gave Lex ample time to compartmentalize his thoughts and emotions. He hadn't set foot in Smallville since he left three years ago. He hadn't seen Clark Kent for that long. The same Clark Kent who had been Lex's closest friend and yet never told Lex that he'd had sex with someone. Someone who'd had Clark's child.

Lex wasn't sure which bothered him more: the fact that Clark hadn't told Lex about his sexual encounter, or the fact that Clark had sex with someone other than Lex.

Jealousy was a petty emotion and Lex refused to succumb to it. His feelings for Clark had never been of a romantic nature, just a deeply rooted sense of... belonging, almost. When they'd surrendered to drunken passion that one night, it didn't make things awkward between them. Rather, it had simply felt right, like a logical addition to strengthening their friendship.

And it had strengthened their friendship, until Lex's past came back to haunt him and hurt Clark in the process. Amanda's brother's machinations followed by Dr. Hamilton's Nicodemus experiment had caused Clark to be wary of Lex, which had hurt tremendously. When Lionel requested Lex's return to the fold soon after, Lex had accepted despite Clark's asking him to stay in Smallville. They hadn't seen each other since.

The helicopter landed at the LuthorCorp Plant No. 3 at 3:15 PM. A car was waiting for Lex as pre-arranged by his secretary.

Fifteen minutes after he landed in Smallville, Lex pulled into the gravel driveway of the Kent Farm. He stopped his Porsche behind a slightly rusty mid-sized Ford Taurus, which was parked behind the familiar blue Kent truck. Lex smoothed his tie and buttoned his jacket after he emerged from the car. He looked through his sunglasses as the bright yellow house. He heard the back screen door bang on its hinges. Inhaling slowly, he fought the sudden desire to smile genuinely when Clark walked into view.

Clark looked the same. Tall, broad-shouldered, and model-handsome, wearing a checkered red shirt, faded jeans and workboots. He carried a lunch bucket and a white hard hat in one hand, combing back his longish black hair with the fingers of his other hand.

His step faltered when he saw Lex, before a wholly false, polite smile graced his lips. "Lex, hello," he greeted in a subdued tone, joining Lex by the vehicles. "Long time, no see."

"Yes, it has been a long time." Lex mimicked Clark's false smile, tucking his hands casually in his trouser pockets. "How are you?"

"Fine," Clark answered automatically. "What brings you to town?"

"My father," Lex said. "He told me something earlier today that I wanted to verify."

"You mean, Sam." Clark glanced back at the house as the screen door slammed again. "I guessed you'd be coming to see him for yourself, only I didn't think it would be so soon. Lionel was just here this morning."

"So, it's true?" Lex's fists balled in his pockets. "You have a son?"

"Dad! Hey, Dad, wait!" A red-haired, lightly freckled-faced little boy came barreling around the corner of the house, following the shout.

Lex was glad he was wearing sunglasses, because they hid his reaction upon seeing Sam. Lex felt as though he'd been sucker-punched. Clark Kent had a son. Sam skidded to a halt beside Clark, completely unwinded, and peered curiously up at Lex with slanted green-blue eyes that were identical to Clark's. "Hi. I'm Sam," he said. "Who are you?"

"Sam, this is your dad's old friend, Mr. Lex," Clark made the introductions. "Lex, my son, Sam Kent."

Sam thrust out his small hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Lex. My dad talks about you all the time."

"Oh, he does, does he?" Lex crouched awkwardly and accepted the handshake. "And just what does your dad say?"

"Mostly that it's all your fa-mmph." A giant hand suddenly covered half of Sam's face, cutting him off.

Clark smiled tightly. "Sam, I have to get to work. Was there something that you wanted?"

Lex straightened, allowing for the change of subject. He'd find out what Clark said about him soon enough.

Clark removed his hand from over Sam's mouth and Sam pulled a face. "Grandma says I can't watch Nova unless I eat my carrots."

"Then I guess you'll have to eat your carrots."

"But carrots are yucky!"

"They're also good for you," Clark said.

"How so?" Sam demanded with disbelief.

"They help your eyesight," Clark replied. At Sam's continued skeptical look, he added, "Go look it up if you don't believe me."

"Okay." Sam turned and ran back towards the house.

Clark called after him. "Bye, Sam! I'll see you in the morning." He turned to Lex, who had watched the exchanged in silence. "I have to go to work."

"When do you get off?"

"Midnight."

"Tomorrow, then. I'm not leaving until we've had a chance to talk." And they definitely needed to talk. While Lex was almost certain Sam wasn't his child, despite the fair skin and red hair, he wanted to know exactly how Sam came into being.

"You'll be at the castle?" Clark asked. Lex nodded. "I'll be over around 9:30 AM."

"All right." Lex accepted the dismissal and opened his car door. "I'll expect you then." He climbed into the car without a further word, started her up, and drove away.

* * *

Lex spent his evening learning everything he could about Clark and Sam Kent. With his connections, he had all the information available from a surface search within a few hours.

Samuel David Kent, son of Clark, had a date of birth of August eighth, the same year Clark had turned sixteen, according to the official paternity papers on file at the Lowell County Clerk's Office. The mother was listed as Jane Doe and there was no birth certificate. Curious, but not exceptionally so. What was more interesting to learn was Sam's IQ scores. It was no wonder he'd made an impression on Lionel.

Clark, Lex learned, dropped out of high school before his sophomore year and completed his GED when he was seventeen. He started working full-time, second shift, at LuthorCorp a month after Sam had been born and had been working there at a pitiful wage ever since. He still lived at home, owned the Ford Taurus Lex had seen in the driveway, and had close to $50,000.00 in a savings account at the bank.

By the time Clark arrived with Sam the next morning, Lex had a mental list of blanks to fill. As the caretaker was the only other person in residence, Lex let the Kents into the castle himself, with a genial welcome.

"Hello, Mr. Lex!" Sam said enthusiastically, all eyes and bright smile. "I've never been to a castle before. Does your castle have ghosts? I looked up castles on the 'puter this morning, and almost all of them had ghosts."

"I don't think there are any ghosts, but you can look for them if you want," Lex said.

"Can I?" Sam looked pleadingly up at Clark. "Huh, Dad, can I go look for the ghosts?"

Clark addressed Sam, but continued looking at Lex. "We'll have to follow you, if Lex doesn't mind..."

"That's fine," Lex agreed readily.

"Okay, Sam. You can look for ghosts."

Instead of whooping for glee, Sam put his serious face and held a finger to his lips. "You got to be quiet so you don't scare the ghosts away, all right?"

"We promise," Clark said solemnly, and released Sam's hand. He and Lex stayed put near the front door as Sam began to creep along the foyer to the first room.

"I'm sorry I had to bring Sam," Clark said quietly, once Sam was out of immediate earshot. "My babysitters weren't available on such short notice."

"What about his mother? I believe her name is 'Jane Doe.'"

Clark reared back slightly. "Boy, you don't pull any punches."

"Is there a reason I should?" Lex tucked his hands in his pockets and fell into step beside Clark, as they followed after Sam. "We were friends. I think that allows me to ask certain things."

"We were friends, Lex," Clark said. "Were."

Lex's lips drew tightly together, as a hurt he hadn't felt in years flared in his chest. "Now who's not pulling punches?"

Clark blew out a tense breath. "Sorry. It's just... it's been three years, Lex. A lot changes in three years."

"I'll say." Lex looked over at Sam, who was peering under dust-covers on the furnishings in the semi-dark parlor. "Clark Kent, teen father. I never would have believed it."

"You and everybody else," Clark said. "I was pretty surprised, too."

"Will you bite my head off again if I ask what happened?"

Clark leaned against the doorjamb, his focus on Sam. "I had unprotected sex, Sam was born, and now I'm a father. That's pretty much it."

"Who's the mother?" Lex pressed. "And how do you know he's yours?"

"There's no question that Sam is mine," Clark replied. "Who the mother is doesn't matter. It was a one-night thing that resulted in pregnancy. I haven't seen that person in years."

Lex was mostly satisfied with the answer. He'd be more so with a name, but it was obvious Clark was not going to reveal it.

Sam opened the connecting door to the lounge and crept stealthily into the next room. Clark and Lex moved to the doorway of the lounge to continue supervising. Clark was quiet and somewhat tense, uncomfortable being at the castle. Lex knew they couldn't slide right back into the friendship they'd had, but he was saddened by Clark's discomfort. They had been best friends - Lex's only close friend, in fact. He should have tried harder to keep in touch.

"Tell me about you," Lex ventured, desiring suddenly to reconnect, to have the surface information he'd read fleshed out. "What have you been doing for the last three years?"

"Taking care of Sam. Working." Clark shrugged. "That's about it."

"No girlfriend?"

Clark's bark of laughter was not nice. Sam frowned over in his direction. "Dad, you're supposed to be quiet."

"Sorry, sport," Clark apologized. He looked at Lex, wearing an ugly smile. "Mr. Lex just said something really funny."

"Mr. Lex, don't tell jokes," Sam scolded, before heading out of the lounge into the main hall.

"I didn't intend it as a joke," Lex said seriously, to Clark. "Things with Lana never panned out?"

"Lana's my friend, the only one I still have, but she's nothing more," Clark said. "No one wants to date a kid with a kid, Lex."

Lex followed Clark across the hall to the open doorway of the War Room. He felt like he should be apologizing because Clark couldn't get a date. "I'm sure that's not true. I've heard men with children are chick-magnets."

"What planet are you living on?" Clark scoffed.

"Apparently the one where I say 'chick-magnet' with a straight face," Lex said, shaking his head in self-deprecation. "There's bound to be someone interested in you, Clark."

"Lex, the last person who showed even an inkling of wanting me was you," Clark told him flatly, "and we both know that only happened because we were drunk."

Lex liked to think it was because of a little more than that, but refrained from saying so. "Consider the subject dropped."

"Good."

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, as they both focused solely on Sam. Lex hated the emotion churning inside him, things he hadn't felt since leaving Smallville. Things that only came with caring about another person's opinions and beliefs.

"I missed you." The words came out of the blue. Clark glanced over at Lex, before dropped his chin and continuing. "I miss the friendship we had and that we don't have it anymore."

Lex responded without thought. "Same here." It was the truth, anyway. He was seriously questioning why he'd allowed their friendship to fade in the first place.

Clark gave him a shy, sideways smile. Lex found himself echoing it before he could prevent it. It was the right thing to do, even if it wasn't purposeful. Clark relaxed perceptively.

"Dad, come see! Mr. Lex has a ghost!"

Clark's brows shot up and he exchanged a surprised look with Lex. He hustled to where his son was standing. Lex was right behind him.

Sam was near the far corner of the War Room, looking up towards the ceiling. Clark came up on one side of him, Lex on the other. They both looked up. Lex saw nothing but cobwebs. He'd have to say something about that to his caretaker.

"Where, Sam?" Clark asked.

"Right there." Sam pointed.

Lex squinted. "I don't see it."

"It's right there."

Clark crouched and followed Sam's finger. "Where?"

"There."

"Holy-" Clark swallowed the oath. He reached over Sam's head, snagged Lex's arm, and tugged him down.

Lex caught his balance and shot a questioning look at Clark. Clark was staring up towards the ceiling, where Sam was still pointing. Lex got the hint, sighted along Sam's arm, and jerked in alarm.

A slightly blurry figure in a long black cloak floated near the upper corner of the room.

"Lex."

"Yeah, Clark?"

"There's a ghost in your War Room."

"There's no such thing as ghosts."

"Are, too!"

"Shh! Sam, keep your voice down. You'll scare away the ghost."

"Mr. Luthor?"

Lex would adamantly deny that he squawked like a chicken and fell on his butt, at the call of his name from behind. Clark yelped, also startled, and spun and rose to a standing position, blocking Sam from any danger.

The black-cloaked caretaker stood on the second floor balcony, staring questionably down at them. "Is there a problem, Mr. Luthor?"

Lex looked at his caretaker, glanced up at where the ghost was, and instructed, "Raise your left arm, Enrique."

The "ghost" raised its right arm, while Enrique raised his left.

Lex mentally slapped himself for his gullibility. "It's a mirror, Clark," he said, climbing to his feet. "A security mirror."

The dusty mirror was fitted seamlessly in the corner near the ceiling. Lex bet there used to be furniture approximately where Sam had stood, and whoever had sat there could see the balcony behind him, to prevent someone from sneaking up on him.

"It's not a ghost?" Sam sounded extremely disappointed.

"Sorry, Sam. It's a reflection," Clark said. He pointed to Enrique. "You're seeing Enrique in a dirty mirror."

"How?" Sam asked. "In-reek-ay is all the way up there."

"It's the angle of the mirror," Lex told Sam.

Sam turned expectant, demanding eyes on Lex. "Explain, please."

* * *

Clark hid his smile with a bite of ice cream. In spite of the early hour, the three boys were in the kitchen, sitting at the servants' table and eating chocolate fudge ice cream, a consolation for the lack of ghosts.

Lex had completely geeked-out, as soon as it became evident Sam could comprehend Lex's answer, when Sam asked for an explanation on mirrors. He was currently using his spoon to demonstrate convex and concave refractions. At most, Clark could hang the spoon off his nose. Science was not Clark's strong point and he was usually left floundering when Sam questioned certain things. Lex, obviously, had been a total science nerd when he was in school. Clark got a mental image of a pocket protector-wearing Lex, with his sweater-vest tucked into his high-water corduroys, and gave up fighting the grin.

Lex caught the smile and arched a brow, but Clark shook his head, indicating it was nothing.

Clark focused on his diminishing ice cream and listened to Lex and Sam. Clark had been so worried about the two of them ever meeting, worried that Lex would immediately know Sam was his son. Lex's appearance in Smallville meant Lionel had seen the resemblance between Lex and Sam, but Lex had apparently dismissed the probability that Sam was his child and Clark was able to relax. The truth would remain hidden unless Clark chose to reveal it.

Seeing Lex interact with Sam, however, made Clark feel guilty, too. Without getting into the alien pregnancy part, was it right of Clark to keep Lex from knowing he was a father? Was it right to keep Sam from having two parents, from knowing the other half of his heritage?

Then again, did Lex even want to be a father? Yeah, sure, Lex and Sam were getting along at the moment, but Sam was well-rested and being entertained. Would Lex be so patient when Sam was screaming his lungs out because he had to take a nap rather than being allowed to watch a rerun on TV? Would Lex have the patience to answer Sam's never-endings string of questions, even while he was trying to work? Would Lex be able to stop everything and go to Sam, when he received a call that Sam was ill? Would Lex be able to put aside all work at least one full day a week to spend the time solely with Sam?

Clark would be nineteen in a month; a year over the age that he could chose to tell whom he wished about his alien origins. "Lex," he interrupted, "how long will you be in Smallville?"

Lex studied Clark a moment. "I can arrange to remain through the weekend." He paused minutely before adding, "If you wish me to stay."

Clark refrained from admitting that he never wanted Lex to leave in the first place. Instead, he asked Sam, "What do you say, sport? Do you want Mr. Lex to stay in Smallville for the weekend?"

"Yeah!" Sam replied enthusiastically.

Clark gave Lex a crooked smile. "I think that answers for the both of us."

Lex nodded in acceptance. "I'll stay, then."

Lex could hide his emotions better than anyone Clark knew, but Clark could still see the happiness in Lex's eyes.

Clark made his choice then and there. He would fight to rebuild their friendship and trust, for both Sam and himself.

He caught the look in Lex's eyes again and amended his self-promise. Rebuilding the friendship was for Lex, too.

_Part Six_

Lex grabbed his hat before climbing out of the car, setting the alarm, and heading across the semi-crowded parking lot towards the stadium to meet Clark and Sam.

That first weekend visit had become two. Two became four. Four became eight. Lex went to Smallville to celebrate Clark's nineteenth birthday and Sam's third. Clark and Sam went to Metropolis to celebrate Lex's twenty-fifth birthday. The friendship that had dissolved with Lex's move to Metropolis was slowly being rebuilt and redefined, with Sam as an important part of it.

Lex had to actively try to make time for Clark and Sam, but with the invaluable help of his secretary, Laura, his calendar was freed up for them most weekends. It was well worth the trouble, especially because of the time spent alone with Clark while Sam napped. Lex berated himself repeatedly for allowing distance to have ended his prior relationship with Clark.

Clark was quieter now than he had been three years ago. He'd talk freely about Sam, but Lex had to drag out personal thoughts and feelings - although Lex wasn't the most forthcoming with his own personal thoughts and feelings, either. Thankfully, conversation was becoming easier as they grew more comfortable with each other. Lex was looking forward to the day he could share everything with Clark without hesitation.

Lex handed over his ticket as he pushed through the turnstile, entering the stadium. Acting like he belonged even though it was obvious that he was out of his element, he purchased a program and followed the signs hanging overhead to the correct seating section. He climbed the ramp and stepped out into the bright Saturday afternoon sun.

The Metropolis Mudhens was the minor league ball-club for the Lowell County area. The baseball stadium was located in the suburbs of Metropolis, surrounded by neatly landscaped housing developments and parks. The stadium itself seated only a thousand, with silver benches that burned bottoms in the sun. Local advertisers had signs posted next to bigger name brands on the walls surrounding the green field. The electronic scoreboard congratulated Mona and Hank on their fortieth anniversary.

When Clark had suggested they take in a baseball game as one of their weekend activities, Lex had offered to get box seats to the next major league game, but Clark insisted on the minor league. "Major league players play for the money," Clark had explained, "the minor league players play because they love the game."

Minor league or not, Lex still wanted the best seats and he managed to secure three in the cordoned-off VIP section, behind home plate. The chipped blue hard plastic seats folded down and had curved backrests, and Sam was standing on one as Clark slathered him with sunblock. They were both dressed in shorts and tees, due to the unseasonably hot weather, which served to make Lex looked overdressed in his pale pink shirtsleeves and tan linen slacks.

"Hi." Clark smiled softly, just a turning up at the corner of his mouth that indicated he was happy to see Lex, as Lex joined father and son in the VIP box. "Did you have any trouble getting free?"

"Barely any," Lex answered, ruffling Sam's red locks in greeting. He sat in the seat beside Sam. "Laura conveniently interrupted the meeting with an 'emergency.' I'm going to have to give her another raise."

"Considering you make her work on the weekends, you definitely should," Clark said, rubbing sunblock on Sam's ears. He tweaked Sam's nose when he finished. "You're done."

Sam sat down on his knees, facing Lex. "We're going to do statistics, right? You promised."

"We certainly are," Lex said, handing Sam the program he'd bought.

Clark took an olive green fisherman's hat out of the backpack by his feet and put it on Sam's head. He glanced at Lex. "Where's your hat?"

Lex answered by putting on the tan Panama hat he'd had on his lap. He smiled bemusedly at Clark. Clark grinned sheepishly in return.

"The father-hen will sit down now," he said, plopping a tattered Smallville Crows baseball cap on his own head before taking a seat on the other side of Sam.

"Dad, can I have a pencil?" Sam asked.

"May I, please, and yes." Clark reached into the backpack and procured a thick children's pencil. He gave it to Sam. "What do you say?"

"Thank you," Sam said obediently. He put the program on the armrest and carefully printed his and Lex's name at the top. "This morning, I calculated the odds of the Mudhens winning at six-to-one. Dickie Nolan has a good grasp of Newton's Laws. Did you know that everything is about physics, Mr. Lex, even baseball? Physics is mostly math, which I already know pretty good."

Lex listened as Sam rambled on about things no three-year-old should be able to understand. Even now, after months of interacting with Sam, it amazed Lex how intelligent Sam was, and how inquisitive. He wondered how Clark was able to keep up with Sam. He also wondered if Clark knew how much Lex respected and admired him, more so than when he was just a boy with a good heart.

Lex glanced over Sam's head at Clark, who was looking out over the field. There was a world of difference between adult Clark and the high school freshman that used to come around the castle. Nineteen and twenty-five didn't seem so far apart as fifteen and twenty-one had. Lex and Clark were on somewhat equal footing now, though their lives were radically different. It was strange that they were friends, since they had little in common, but Clark liked Lex in spite of his name and money, rather than because of it. Lex would be a fool twice over not to do everything in his power to keep Clark in his life.

Clark looked over at Lex, smiled softly, and Lex's chest hurt suddenly with emotion. He dropped his gaze, focusing intently on Sam, and began to explain the intricacies of statistics.

* * *

Fifteen-year-old Jimmy Olsen loved sporting events, but not for the game. Jimmy was a photographer and people were his favorite subject. Candid shots of humanity, taken unaware. Sometimes, he photographed famous people and sold the pictures to the newspapers, but it was a rare occasion when he was in the right place at the right time to see a VIP, especially in Metropolis, Kansas.

Lex Luthor was a very important person, and he was at a Mudhens ballgame.

Jimmy took an entire roll of pictures of a quasi-casually dressed Luthor in a Panama hat, sitting with a child and another guy in the VIP stands behind home plate. Jimmy wondered if he'd struck gold when the child climbed onto Luthor's lap. Through the viewfinder, Jimmy saw familiarity, comfortableness, and a strong resemblance between Luthor and the child.

Jimmy didn't remember reading anywhere that Lex Luthor was a father, and he had no siblings so the boy couldn't be a nephew. Maybe Luthor had a secret, illegitimate child and Jimmy was first to capture the evidence on film. But if that was the case, where was the mother? And who was the guy that was now seated right beside Luthor, arm comfortably laid across the back of Luthor's seat as he leaned closer to look at the program in the child's hands?

Jimmy's finger depressed the shutter button, capturing a laugh shared between Luthor and the guy, the child smiling brightly up at both men.

Jimmy lowered the camera, suddenly feeling like he was intruding.

* * *

Clark sprawled on the couch in the den, in Lex's Metropolis apartment. The word "apartment" was actually a misnomer. Lex's place was bigger than the Kents' entire house. A party with two hundred guests could easily be held in the opulent residence, and probably had.

The multitude of rooms were decorated modernly, a bachelor's pad of the ultra rich, subtly child-proofed. There were three bedrooms with in-suite bathrooms, and an additional powder room for guests. Several salons, parlors, and an extended dining room went unused a majority of the year. The den with connecting office were the only rooms that looked lived in, aside from the servants' quarters, although none of the servants actually resided at the apartment.

"I think Sam has the right idea," Clark said, accepting the glass of lemonade passed to him by Lex. "I could use a nap myself."

"Feel free to use my bed," Lex told him, joining him on the couch.

"Nah." Clark dropped his head on the back of the cranberry leather couch and closed his eyes. "I'm good."

They sat in comfortable silence for a little while. Clark eventually rolled his head, opened his eyes, and looked at Lex, who was partially curled in the corner, fist propping his head up as he leaned against the arm of the couch. He held a nearly empty glass of amber liquid in his other hand, resting it on his bent leg. The tip of his nose was sunburned from the ballgame. Clark didn't bother to suppress his smile.

"What?" Lex said, watching Clark with sleepy eyes.

"Nothing," Clark said. "I'm just happy."

"You say that like it's a novelty."

"It still is," Clark admitted. "It was a lonely year, with Lana gone to college."

"Did you two ever hook up?" Lex asked, lifting his glass to take a sip.

Clark shook his head. "No. We're just friends. Things might have been different if Sam hadn't come along, but so would a lot of things."

"Any regrets?"

"About Sam, never," Clark replied instantly. "About anything else...," his lips curved in a half-smile, "...just losing touch with you."

Surprised pleasure washed across Lex's face, roses blooming on his cheeks. He looked down quickly and fiddled with his glass.

It was nearly impossible to visibly fluster Lex, and Clark found it immensely satisfying that he was able to do it.

"Refill?" Lex asked as he stood, obvious in his need to move.

"No. I'm fine."

Lex walked over to the bar. The silence was no longer completely comfortable, which amused Clark. He took pity on his friend and turned on the television. When Lex returned to the couch, Clark studied him through half-slitted eyes while pretending to watch the television. They had been getting steadily closer as friends, both personally and family-like with Sam. Lex didn't open up easily, but he made an effort when Clark asked specific questions. However, Lex loved to talk about his company, LexCorp, and especially about ancient history. Alexander the Great as told by Alexander the Wannabe Great, though Clark didn't dare call Lex that to his face.

Lex shifted on the couch, toeing off his shoes and propping his feet on the coffee table. Clark hid a grin when he saw Lex's pink socks, which matched his shirt. Only Lex could get away with wearing something pink and not look girly. Clark sipped his lemonade and continued to subtly observe Lex. The trust Clark had wanted to develop between them was growing steadily. He was actually glad in one way for the break in their friendship, because their new relationship was built from mutual like and not gratitude. It was also nice to have an "adult" friend who didn't have such trivialities as school or extra-curricular clubs and sports and think that those things were the toughest activities in the world.

Some people would say Clark and Lex had nothing in common, and discounting Sam, they would be correct. But it was their differences that made their relationship work and Clark was extremely happy to have Lex in his life once more.

A small, content smile on his face, Clark scrunched further down on the couch and continued to enjoy his visit with Lex.

_Part Seven_

Smallville was a close-knit farming community despite its size, and the high school's Homecoming brought nearly everyone out for the day. The Homecoming celebration started with a parade, followed by the football game against the Winnetka Wolverines, Smallville's biggest rivals. If the Crows won, a bonfire would take place later that night, mostly for the high school crowd.

Jonathan always liked Homecoming. He could remember the days when he was the one playing in the big game. After he'd married, he remembered longing for a son of his own who would play. He got his wish for a son, although not by the usual means, but his child would never play in a game.

Jonathan wouldn't trade Clark for a son who could follow in his father's footsteps, but he would admit things would've been a lot different if Clark had been a normal, human child. Jonathan had adjusted, however, to all the wild passes life threw at him. He was a grandfather now to a wonderful, if exasperating, little boy and couldn't be prouder of Clark taking responsibility as a father. Jonathan didn't hold back on voicing his negative opinion of the Luthors, but the one good thing associated with that name was Samuel David Kent.

It was on the warm Homecoming Saturday during the parade that Jonathan surprisingly found himself disliking the Luthors less than usual. Lex was in town by invitation from Clark, something that was becoming a regular occurrence, as was Clark and Sam visiting Lex in Metropolis. Jonathan was wary of the renewed friendship, especially because Clark planned to tell Lex the truth eventually, but it wasn't Jonathan's place to forbid the relationship. Clark was old enough and mature enough to make his own decisions and be knowledgeable of the consequences of those decisions. Subsequently, Jonathan thought it would be wise to make nice with Lex, to better protect Clark and Sam, in light of the forthcoming truths.

It was with that frame of mind that Jonathan sought out Clark and Lex at the parade. He found them near the end of the parade route and was surprised by what he saw. Lex had Sam on his shoulders and Sam was holding on to Lex's ears like handles. Lex did not look uncomfortable, either. In fact, he seemed relaxed and cheerful, completely un-Luthor like in Jonathan's mind, as he spoke to Clark, who was standing beside him.

Clark also surprised Jonathan. He was smiling, happily smiling, something that he hadn't done in years unless it was directed at Sam. Jonathan knew about the rumors around town when Sam first arrived and had watched in sadness as Clark withdrew from others. His only three friends - though Chloe and Pete had been mostly absent in the last year - were away at college and Clark hadn't made any friends at the plant close to his age.

Jonathan begrudgingly had to admit that anyone who got Clark to come out of his self-imposed shell couldn't be that bad, even if his last name was Luthor. "Hello, you guys," Jonathan said, joining them. In the street, the high school drama club was re-enacting a Shakespearean fight scene as they marched.

"Hey, Dad."

"Mr. Kent."

"Hi, Grandpa! Where's Grandma?"

"She's talking to Mrs. Munchnick," Jonathan replied. "Enjoying the parade?"

"So far," Clark said, eyeing Jonathan warily. Jonathan didn't blame Clark for his wariness. He hadn't been all that polite to Lex in the past.

"That's good," he said, glancing at Lex. Lex looked blandly at him in return. "I just stopped to see if you two had plans for dinner."

Surprise appeared on Clark's face, and he exchanged a questioning look with Lex. "No," Clark said. "No plans."

"Martha's putting dinner on the table at six o'clock. I hope to see you both there," Jonathan said.

"Um, okay," Clark said.

"Okay, then," Jonathan said. "Have fun today." He clapped Clark on the shoulder briefly, nodded to Lex, and walked away. He had to go find Martha and tell her he'd just invited Lex Luthor over for dinner. She should be proud.

* * *

Martha was going to kill Jonathan.

Granted, it was somewhat her own fault for not informing her husband of her feelings about Lex, but she never thought Jonathan would extend an olive branch to a Luthor.

Lex sat at the kitchen table, looking relatively relaxed. Martha wanted to break something over his bald head. He had despoiled her baby, upended their lives, and dared to think that he was welcome in the Kent home.

Martha smiled flatly and passed the corn upon request. Apparently, repressing her feelings for years hadn't been a good idea. She was mad at all three men. She was mad at Lex for not being the responsible adult three years ago. She was mad at Jonathan for being the bigger person and accepting Lex as Clark's friend. She was mad at Clark for wanting Lex as a friend again and for being an alien that could get pregnant, which started this whole mess. She knew she wasn't being rational; she should be proud that the three were trying to build a comfortable relationship. Perhaps she was menopausal.

"How do you like working in Metropolis?" Jonathan asked, making polite conversation. Sam had fallen asleep immediately after the football game, so they didn't have his usual chatter at dinner.

"It's all right," Lex replied as he cut his food. "Working for my father is a pain. I do all of the legwork and have none of the voting powers. That's one of the reasons that I created my own company."

"Oh-so-modestly named LexCorp," Clark teased.

Lex gave him an unamused look. "Purposely, and for family reasons that I'm not bringing to the table."

Martha knew the reason: to show up Lionel. It did nothing to endear Lex to her. "What does your company do?" Jonathan said, sounding truly interested.

"I buy scientific technology companies, sink money into them, and hope to turn a profit with increased productivity and innovations," Lex said. "So far, I seem to be succeeding."

"LexCorp is worth over a half-billion dollars," Clark bragged on his friend's behalf. "He's on the Fortune-500 list."

"At the very bottom," Lex clarified. Martha had to credit Lex; he appeared mildly embarrassed by Clark's words of praise.

"That's rather impressive, Lex," Jonathan said. "What do you do if one of your purchased companies doesn't make money?"

"I close it and offer the employees transfers to any of the other companies," Lex replied. "There's about a forty-sixty ratio of those who choose the transfer, usually the scientists, which is actually a benefit to me to keep them on."

"I wish you owned the plant here," Clark commented. "A job guarantee would be nice."

"I'm sorry, Clark," Lex said, looking sincerely apologetic. "The fertilizer plant is not in the correct scientific field. I can see if there are any positions open in one of my other companies. I own one in Metropolis..."

Clark shook his head. "That's okay, Lex. I was just speculating."

"You sure? It's no problem-"

"Lex," Clark interrupted, smiling widely with fond amusement. He laid his hand on Lex's arm. "Thank you, but no."

Lex nodded. "All right, but let me know if you change your mind."

Martha's face showed none of her unhappiness at the obvious caring between Clark and Lex. That Clark had his hand on Lex's arm longer than propriety allowed didn't ease her mind, at all.

She smiled falsely and passed the rolls upon request. She was going to kill Jonathan.

* * *

Lionel Luthor had seen the bonfire as he flew over Smallville. After he'd landed, his chauffeur had explained in more detail than necessary that it was the high school's Homecoming. How quaint. The festivities had better not interfere with his business. He had land to purchase on Sunday, contracts to be signed, and he did not want to deal with a hungover farmer.

Lionel was quite surprised to see one of Lex's cars and the lights on in the castle, when the chauffeur pulled up the driveway. While he didn't purposely keep track of Lex, Lionel usually knew his son's whereabouts.

Lex was probably visiting with the Kent boy again, Lionel supposed. For some reason, Lex insisted on being friends with Clark, though they had nothing in common. It wasn't even a sexual relationship, which Lionel might have understood; Clark was quite attractive for a male. Another thing Lionel couldn't fathom was that Clark didn't want money, either. He seemed to like Lex for Lex. It was incomprehensible. No one liked Lex just because. He was insufferable, irritating, over-emotional, untrustworthy, and unable to follow the simplest of instructions. If he wasn't Lionel's only son, Lionel would've disinherited Lex long ago. Alas, Lex was the sole heir to LuthorCorp and so Lionel tolerated his behavior and worked endlessly to mold him into a man worthy of running an empire.

Lionel entered the castle without knocking - it was his property, after all. No staff greeted him, though he knew the caretaker lived in residence, which meant Lex had dismissed him for the night. Slightly annoyed, Lionel went in search of Lex, to announce his presence.

Laughter spilled from the study, a purely non-jaded sound that Lionel was certain he'd never heard before. He slowed his step, interest piqued. It wasn't often he had the chance to watch Lex unobserved, and felt no guilt in doing so now.

From the shadows of the hallway outside the open study door, Lionel could see Lex and Clark sprawled on the rug in front of a cheery fire, a chessboard separating them. Lex was lying on his side, head propped up by his hand, a glass of red wine near his elbow. Across from him, Clark sat cross-legged, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his fists, studying the chessboard. The lamplight was cozy, and they looked comfortable, enjoying each other's company without pretense.

"I don't know how you do it, Clark," Lex was saying, neatly lining up the white chess pieces removed from play. "I doubt I'd make as good of a father as you."

"I think you'd do fine," Clark said earnestly.

Lex made a sound of derision. "Right, because I had such a good role model."

"Oh, I don't know," Clark said. "Parenting is preparing the child for adulthood, and I think you turned out pretty good."

"That's because you're biased. You actually like me."

"Sam likes you."

"Sam is three."

"He's also smarter than three-quarters of the adults on the planet," Clark said.

Lex smirked. "Even smarter than you?"

"Definitely." Clark's eyes twinkled merrily in the firelight. "He liked you immediately. It took me a whole week to figure out what a great guy you are."

Lex averted his gaze, a blush sweeping over his bald scalp. "Isn't it your turn?"

Clark moved the white knight and gave Lex a blinding grin. "Check."

"Bastard," Lex said with an unbidden smile in return.

Lionel retreated from the doorway, having seen enough. Without making his presence known, he headed upstairs to his bedroom, locking himself in for the night. He'd leave the boys to their fun. Chess was strictly a two-player game, anyway.

_Part Eight_

The planetarium was a part of Metropolis University and open to the public Thursday through Sunday. The winter sky was clear, for once, and astronomy enthusiasts crowded the planetarium after dark. MetU astronomy students worked in the evening, explaining to the visitors what they saw projected on the ceiling from the large telescope pointed at the Kansas night sky.

In another portion of the planetarium, a short redhead stood on a bench, lecturing to a small crowd about the mathematics of astronomy. The display on the wall behind him was a list of equations used in charting the stars and other anomalies in the universe. Almost all those who stopped to listen were awed by the boy's knowledge and elocution, especially since he looked so young.

"What a precocious young man," one woman commented and overheard by two amused men standing nearby. "I wonder what school he attends. I wouldn't mind sending my Jenny there, if the education is this promising."

"Hard to believe he's only three and a half," Lex said to Clark, watching Sam work through an equation with his audience, doing the calculations in his mind.

"I know," Clark said, "and he hasn't even started school yet."

"He's not going to be able to attend regular public school, you do know that?" Lex said, glancing sidelong at his friend.

"I... hadn't thought about it," Clark confessed, a frown creasing his brow. "I was going to try and enroll him at the Smallville Elementary School early, starting Kindergarten next fall instead of waiting until he was five."

"Except for his spelling, he's working at a high school level, and even higher than that in math," Lex said. "I would suggest either hiring a long-term tutor or enrolling him at Maplethorpe School here in Metropolis."

"Maplethorpe?"

"It's one of two schools for the gifted in Kansas. I went to Maplethorpe until I was nine," Lex ghosted a hand over his bare skull, "before this happened and I was stuck in a private hospital for over a year."

"I'm sorry," Clark said, shoulders hunching.

"Don't be," Lex said, not wanting to be pitied. "It's in the past, and I couldn't be as commanding with a head full of clown-red hair."

"I don't know. Sam seems to be commanding attention just fine." Clark glanced shyly over at Lex. "But, I like your baldness. It's... you."

"It's me after years of therapy, self-abusing teen shenanigans, and growing up," Lex said cynically, though inside he was pleased at the compliment.

Clark quirked a grin. "Shenanigans?"

"Shut up."

A light chuckle from Clark elicited a real smile from Lex. Lex found himself smiling more often these past few months, even when Clark and Sam weren't around. Laura, his secretary, noted the change and asked him if she should call the jewelers to commission a ring. Lex thought it amusing that she'd jump to the conclusion that he was in love.

Perhaps he was in love; in love with a pint-sized little boy, with hair the same shade as Lex's mother's had been and eyes identical to Clark's. Lex had a profound respect and strong affection for the little boy's father, too, which could be described as love. He knew he would do anything for either of them, without limits, and could no longer imagine life without them both as a part of it.

"Tell me more about Maplethorpe," Clark requested, as Sam began to lose some of his audience due to the complexity of the topic.

"It's a school for the gifted, ages four through fourteen," Lex replied, remembering back to the days he was a student. "Each student has an individual educational program to meet their intellectual needs, but allows for social interaction with their peers."

Clark grinned again. "You sound like a brochure."

Lex shrugged. "It's a good school. If Sam was my son, Maplethorpe would be my first choice."

An odd look crossed Clark's face, before he ducked his head and coughed in his hand. Then, as if coming to a decision, he straightened, looked Lex dead in the eyes, and said, "Consider Sam your son, too."

Lex's chest tightened. He stared at Clark, stunned. Clark continued to meet his gaze steadily. "I don't know what to say," Lex whispered around the lump in his throat.

"Say you'll put Sam first, above everything," Clark said.

"I already do put Sam first," Lex admitted. He dropped his eyes, bracing himself before exposing, "And you, as well."

Clark laid his hand on Lex's shoulder, squeezed gently, and dropped it again. Lex cleared his throat, shoving his slightly shaking hands in his pockets. He was being over-emotional, a trait his father hated, and in public no less.

Thankfully, there were no reporters around to witness him wiping his eyes.

* * *

"Maplethorpe," Lex said, gesturing to the flat screen computer monitor. He stood, giving Clark the seat in front of the computer. "I doubt it's changed much since I went there, other than adding computers."

Clark utilized the mouse, speed-reading the information on the webpage. Sam had been put to bed shortly after they'd returned to Lex's apartment from the planetarium. Clark and Lex had adjourned to the study, where Lex had pulled up the information on the school for the gifted on his computer.

Tonight, Clark was the closest he'd ever been to telling Lex the truth about Sam. Still, something held him back, though Clark had a feeling it had nothing to do with trusting Lex. Fear, perhaps, that their comfortable relationship would change - and it would, of that there was no doubt. Maybe a bit of anxiety, too. He knew Lex would be hurt by Clark's withholding the truth for so long. For now, Clark would remain silent and share his son with Lex as much as possible. Clark clicked on the tuition link and blinked incredulously. "Lex, there's no way I can afford Maplethorpe. It costs the same for a year of college."

"A private tutor would cost more, Clark," Lex told him. "But don't worry about it. I can easily afford tuition." Clark opened his mouth, but Lex held up his hand, cutting Clark off. "I know. Kents and their stubborn refusal of gifts. If it'll appease you, Sam could have a LexCorp scholarship and I'd get a tax break, so it wouldn't be charity. I can even offer more than one scholarship, if you'd like."

"You should set up a scholarship anyway, even if Sam doesn't use it," Clark said. He couldn't expect Lex's own son to have a scholarship when there were other, more needy children. If only he felt confident enough to tell the truth.

"I might," Lex said, which translated to 'consider it done.' He leaned over Clark's shoulder to better see the monitor. "So, what do you think?"

Clark turned his attention back to the computer. "Maplethorpe looks okay on screen. It'd be a long commute from Smallville, though."

The offer was spoken quietly, almost tentatively, like Lex already thought it would be rejected. "You could move in with me."

Clark looked up at Lex, his nearness not uncomfortable. Clark could see seriousness and a bit of hope in Lex's eyes. This wasn't an offer made lightly, Clark knew. Lex valued his privacy extremely, keeping both a physical and psychological distance from people. Clark felt honored to be the recipient of such an offer, knowing Lex was opening up more than his home to Clark and Sam.

"You have to promise to let me find my own job," Clark said by way of an answer.

He knew the moment Lex understood that Clark was accepting by the way he lit up from the inside, even though the smile was slow to appear. "Done, but you can use me as a reference," Lex said.

"Being endorsed by a Luthor in Metropolis kind of defeats the purpose of 'on my own,'" Clark teased, giving in to the urge to grin stupidly.

Lex laughed. "I see your point."

Clark's stomach flipped, something that had been happing a lot recently, every time Lex laughed. He chalked it up to happiness at getting his stoic friend to relax. Although, come to think of it, Lex laughed a lot easier now. Truthfully, Clark liked it. "If you're not careful, you're going to get laugh lines."

Lex's fine brows rose, but the smile remained. "Maybe I want them."

"Then I'll have to work doubly hard to give them to you." Clark poked Lex in the ribs, where he knew Lex was ticklish.

Lex laughed and backed up. Clark rolled the chair, keeping after him. "Clark!" Lex sputtered, dancing away from Clark's fingers.

An evil gleam entered Clark's eyes. "Laugh lines, Lex. You have to laugh to get laugh lines."

"Don't you dare," Lex warned, hands raised defensively.

Clark smiled predatorily.

Lex bolted.

Stocking feet slid easily on the shiny marble tile. Lex skid across the hall as he ran from the study, nearly crashing into a table. He changed direction, stumble-running towards the kitchen.

Clark chased after Lex, telling himself it wasn't cheating to use his powers for balance and speed. He caught Lex just outside the kitchen doorway, wrapping an arm up under Lex's shoulder in a half-nelson, tickling with the other hand.

Lex cursed like a squeaky sailor, laughing the whole while. Clark guffawed at some of the more inventive promises of retaliation Lex made.

Eventually, Clark released Lex and slumped against the wall, watching with amusement as Lex tried to catch his breath. "You are so dead," Lex stated. It would have been more convincing if he was standing upright.

Lex straightened finally, fixing his shirt and mock-glaring at Clark. Clark smile beatifically, then reached out and pulled Lex into a hug. "Thank you," he said.

"Of course," Lex said, returning the embrace. "For what?"

"For being the best friend I could ever hope for," Clark replied.

"Then, consider the thanks returned tenfold," Lex said quietly.

Clark nodded, holding Lex a tiny bit tighter, before releasing him. Shy smiles were exchanged, and Lex cuffed Clark lightly on the arm. "C'mon, let's go raid the fridge. All this laughing has made me hungry."

Clark followed Lex without hesitation, feeling quite happy simply to be alive.

* * *

The Fortress of Solitude. A hayloft in the barn, with beams and boards, scavenged furniture and handmade curtains. A place for a teenaged boy to hide from the world, or to figure out his place in it. A refuge when he became too old for his parents' arms.

Dust motes glimmered in the winter sunlight streaming from the open hay door. Taped boxes sat near the creaky wooden steps, each neatly labeled in black marker: telescope, old school books, and Sam's gadgets. The loft was nearly empty, a half-lifetime of memories packed away.

Clark stood by the rickety desk, packing the last of the boxes. The movers would be arriving soon, to take Clark and Sam's belongings from the Kent farm to Lex's apartment in Metropolis.

Clark was excited and nervous all at once. The move was a new beginning, a chance to be Clark Kent instead of 'that disappointing Kent boy.' In Metropolis, it wouldn't matter that he was nineteen-years-old and had a child. In the city, there would be people his own age that worked full-time. There were also more things to do there; more places take Sam and opportunities for both of them. The scary part was being over a hundred miles away from his parents. They'd always been there, helping and supporting him, even if they didn't constantly get along. They were extremely close to Sam and vice versa. And until Clark would tell Lex, they were the only ones who knew about Clark's origins and abilities. Thankfully, Clark could fly back to Smallville in a few seconds if he needed to, five minutes if he brought Sam.

Clark brushed his fingers over Sam's baby book before putting it in the box. The book was complete now. He had found a key to open his spaceship in Baker's field one day, last November. Inside, there was a place to put the tablet his dad had given him when he was fifteen, that operated the artificial intelligence computer built into the ship. It had spoken a foreign language at first, then in English when Clark tried talking to it. It hadn't taken long for Clark to learn everything about his origins, his biological parents, and the world he would have grown up on if it hadn't been destroyed.

Footsteps sounded on the steps, pulling Clark out of his woolgathering and he looked over his shoulder. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi, sweetheart," Martha said. "Do you need any help?"

"No. I've pretty much got it done," Clark replied. "Where's Sam?"

"With his Grandpa, checking the rooms of the house for the third time, to make sure he's packed everything." Martha perched on the flat arm of the couch. Her lips were pursed, and she hesitated before speaking. "Clark, are you certain you want to do this?"

Clark turned fully to face his mother. "Move to Metropolis?"

"Move in with Lex."

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm also sure we've had this conversation already, when I first told you guys last month," Clark said, folding his arms and leaning against the desk. "I thought you guys were okay with this. Heck, Dad's encouraged it." Jonathan had told Clark the best way to get to know a person was to live in their back pocket and that the move would give him the opportunity to really see if Lex was worthy of Clark's trust.

"Your dad thinks it's a good idea," Martha said. "I don't."

"Why?" Clark asked, frowning.

"Truthfully, it's because I don't like Lex," Martha replied.

"You don't like Lex?" Clark was thoroughly surprised.

"I'm sorry, but no, I don't," Martha said, looking steadily at her son. "He took advantage of you, Clark, and as a mother, I cannot forgive him for that, no matter how good of a person you think he is."

Dumbfounded, Clark stared at her. "Why didn't you say anything before now?"

"Because you weren't moving in with the person who sexually molested you, Clark." Martha's tone was extra calm, and Clark knew she was really upset.

"Mom, Lex didn't molest me-"

"He most certainly did," Martha stated. "Whether you wanted it or not, Lex was twenty-one and never should have had sex with a fifteen-year-old boy."

Clark didn't know what to say. On the one hand, she was correct. The thought of Sam having sex at age fifteen with anyone, let alone someone older, was unsettling. On the other hand, it was Lex, and it had been... right. A natural occurrence between very close friends.

"I'm sorry," Clark said finally, "but Lex is going to be a part of my life for a long time. If you don't want him to come here anymore, I'll understand, but he is Sam's father and that will never change."

Martha smiled sadly. "You grew up when I wasn't looking." She stood and moved to embrace him. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you, too," Clark said, closing his eyes against the sudden moisture filling them. He hugged Martha a little tighter. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Clark," she said.

A car pulled in the driveway, and Martha released him. They both glanced outside. Lex had arrived. He got out of his car, closed the door, and picked up Sam when the running boy reached him. A smile lit Lex's face and he tweaked Sam's nose before walking towards the house.

"Lex really cares for Sam," Martha observed.

"Yeah, he does," Clark said.

Martha straightened Clark's flannel shirt collar. "I'll let you finish packing."

"Okay."

Clark watched as his mother left the loft, and realized that the last of his childhood had slipped away by his choosing Lex over his mom.

_Part Nine_

Behind the modern coal-black desk with a chest-high divider, guarding Lex's office like a dragon guards its treasure, sat an intelligent-looking young woman in an expertly tailored suit. Smart frames perched on her slightly upturned nose, magnifying dark brown eyes. Her black hair was pulled back in a bun, held by a subdued silver clip. Her full lips were painted a deep mauve color, complimenting her dark cocoa complexion.

She smiled when the glass door leading from the hall opened and stood as Lex and Sam walked into the outer office. "Good morning, Mr. Luthor."

"Good morning, Laura," Lex said, carrying a briefcase and leading Sam by the hand. "I have someone I'd like you to meet."

Laura came out from behind her desk and Lex made introductions. "Laura, this is Sam Kent."

"Hello, Sam," Laura said.

Sam extended his hand. "Hello, Miss Laura. Mr. Lex said you're a super secretary and that he was gonna give you another raise."

Laura shook Sam's hand, even as she smirked at Lex. "That's nice of him."

Lex groaned silently. Laura was already pulling a higher salary than some of the highest paid doctors in the country. She'd proven time and again that she was worth it, though, and her loyalty to Lex was unquestionable.

"Clark is at an interview, so Sam is going to help me work until Clark's done," Lex told her instead of responding to the raise. "Make reservations at Pisello's for lunch and send Clark in when he arrives."

Hopefully, lunch would be a job celebration, although Clark didn't need to find employment immediately. He and Sam had been living with Lex for just under two weeks, and so far things had gone smoothly. The Kents had settled in with far more ease than Lex could have hoped. The apartment looked as though someone actually lived there now and Lex thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of having someone to go home to, who welcomed him in return.

Laura moved to her desk, picking up and passing him his phone messages. "You need to return Mr. Han's call directly, the remainder can wait until this afternoon. I'll need an answer on whether you'll be attending the Neiderman's dinner party before lunch. Also, this came for you." She passed him a large manila envelope, pre-opened and previewed by her. "Anonymous sender and drop-off, left at the desk downstairs. Security level one."

Lex studied the plain envelope with his name and the building's address printed in block letters on it. Security level one meant there was little risk to the subject matter inside the envelope. He pulled the contents out. There was a single eight-by-ten color photograph and a typewritten note.

The photograph was of him, Clark, and Sam laughing together at a stadium. Lex was wholly surprised at how relaxed and happy he looked. He was also surprised at how close Clark was sitting in the picture. Lex didn't really like anyone touching him - Sam didn't count - and Clark was practically draped over Lex in the picture.

Now that he thought about it, Clark touched Lex all the time. Little touches: a friendly hand on his arm or shoulder, a brief hug here and there, or infuriating fingers tickling him. Clark was a tactile person, relatively open with his feelings, to Lex at least, caused by the way he grew up. Funnily enough, for as prickly as Lex knew he was, he didn't mind Clark's displays of friendship.

Lex read the note that came with the photograph. Blackmail was not an issue, thankfully. It was just an amateur photographer being nice and sending along the picture he'd snapped at the Metropolis Mudhens baseball game back in October. Laura's security level one assessment was spot on. The picture would have been in the tabloids months ago if not.

"Can I see?" Sam asked, standing on his toes and tugging at Lex's arm.

Lex crouched, wrapping an arm around Sam, and showed him the picture. "What do you think?"

"It's nice," Sam replied with polite disinterest, now that he'd seen what Lex was holding.

"I agree." Lex straightened. "Laura, do we have a frame?"

"Yes, Mr. Luthor." Laura produced a chrome picture frame from nowhere, obviously having anticipated his request, like the exceptional secretary she was.

Lex knew he shouldn't display the photograph, but it brought color to the otherwise monochrome executive office. He put it on the corner of his desk, angling it precisely.

After hanging up their winter coats, Sam explored the office while Lex placed a return call to Mr. Han. When he finished, Sam climbed onto his lap without hesitation or waiting for permission - not that Lex would ever deny him - and asked, "Mr. Lex, who's Mr. Han?"

Lex tucked his dark tie between the buttons on his white shirt to keep Sam from accidentally choking him. "Mr. Han owns a company that I want to buy, HanKun Industries," he told Sam, adjusting Sam's sweater.

"Where are you going to put it?" Sam said.

Lex smiled, bemused. "I'm going to leave it where it is, here in Metropolis."

"What does the company make?"

"Robots," Lex replied. "Machines that build other machines."

Sam craned his head around to look at Lex with huge eyes. "Really?"

"Yes."

"Wow." Sam sounded awed. "Can I see the robots?"

"May I," Lex corrected, "and I think that can be arranged. We can go after lunch-"

"Yeah!"

"-only," Lex emphasized, "if I finish my work this morning, while you're here. That means you have to be quiet. Do you think you can do that?"

Sam nodded enthusiastically, pretending to zip his lips. Lex chuckled. "Okay. Here's your book." Lex passed Sam the physics textbook that he'd removed from his briefcase while on the phone. Sam settled back against Lex's chest, opening the text to the book-marked page. Lex had expected Sam to go sit on the couch or at the conference table, but the fact that he wanted to stay on Lex's lap caused Lex's heart to swell with joy and affection, a feeling that was becoming more and more familiar. He truly loved Sam Kent.

It wasn't too awkward to stretch around Sam to work on the computer. The proposal to purchase HanKun Industries was in its final stages, so most of Lex's work was re-reading. The company was one that he wanted for LexCorp, so he was doubly careful in his editing.

The morning was quiet. Laura fielded Lex's phone calls, none of which were deemed important enough to be put through. Sam was engrossed in his textbook, learning the mechanics of propulsion, barely moving on Lex's lap save for a bathroom break mid-morning.

The warning buzzer startled them both. "What's that?" Sam asked.

"Laura's telling me that my dad is here." Lex deleted the jumble of letters that appeared in the document, quickly saved his work, and changed screens, just as Lionel Luthor waltzed into Lex's office. Lex gave him a bland smile. "Hello, Dad."

"Lex," Lionel greeted. His brows shot upwards when he saw Sam. "And who have we here?"

"This is Sam Kent, Dad," Lex said. "You've met him once before."

"Oh, yes. I remember," Lionel said, looming on the far side of Lex's desk. "Your friend's little boy." Lex's hackles rose at the way Lionel sneered the word 'friend.'

"I know you," Sam piped up. "You wouldn't teach me how to calculate sales tax."

"That's right, son," Lionel said. "Have you learned to calculate it yet?"

"That's kids stuff," Sam replied snottily.

Lionel smiled flatly and addressed Lex. "What is he doing here?"

"Clark's at an interview and we haven't hired a nanny yet," Lex answered, putting a protective arm around Sam.

"'We'?" Lionel mocked. "Did you get married and fail to invite me to the wedding? I'm offended."

Lex was the one becoming seriously offended. "Was there something that you wanted, or did you just come to annoy me?"

"Really, Lex, is that any way to speak to your father in front of an impressionable youth?" Lionel chided derisively.

Lex's ire grew, hating the fact that Lionel was correct. He most certainly wouldn't like it if Sam spoke to him or Clark the way he spoke to Lionel. Swallowing his pride, he asked fairly evenly, "Is there something I can help you with, Dad?"

"That's better," Lionel said smugly. He removed a tri-folded piece of paper from his pocket and passed it to Lex. "I want this company by Friday."

Lex glanced at the write up, tilting it for Sam when he indicated he wanted to see it. Lex was glad it was not a company he was interested in for LexCorp, but he'd be hard-pressed to complete all the work required to buy the company by Friday, considering it was Tuesday already and Houston Biotechonologies was located in Texas.

"Does this company make robots, too?" Sam inquired curiously.

"No. This one is a biotech firm," Lex explained. "They try and make food better."

"Robots?" Lionel questioned.

Sam spoke up before Lex could reply. "Yeah! Mr. Lex is going to take me to see Mr. Han's robots after lunch."

Lionel directed his speculative gaze at Lex. "Is he now?"

"You'll have your company by Friday, don't worry," Lex said, hoping Lionel wouldn't follow up on the mention of Mr. Han. It was probably a futile hope. As LexCorp climbed the corporate ladder, Lionel's tolerance of Lex's "side-projects" went down. Which meant Lex needed to get the purchase papers signed very soon before Lionel went after Mr. Han himself. Which also meant Lex needed to finish drafting the papers on top of drafting the biotech firm's proposal and papers, on top of researching Houston Biotechnologies in order to give a fair offer that benefited LuthorCorp. Lex was getting a headache already.

And then Clark arrived, wearing a suit and an expression of concern when he saw Lionel, and Lex's headache disappeared before it really began.

"Hi, Dad!" Sam chirped.

"Clark, hi." Lex smiled genuinely at his friend. "How was the interview?"

"It was okay," Clark replied. He started to loosen his tie, but aborted the action with another glance at Lionel. "They said they'd let me know."

Lionel made a sound of derision and Lex glared at him. "Friday, Lex," Lionel reminded. He gave Clark a once-over and smiled mockingly. "Good luck with the job-hunt, Clark."

After Lionel left, Clark scowled in his general direction. "Your dad grates on my nerves."

"He grates on everyone's nerves," Lex said. Sam wiggled off his lap and hurried over to Clark, as Clark dropped into the chair opposite Lex's desk.

"Dad, guess what?" Sam said excitedly, climbing onto Clark's lap. "Mr. Lex is gonna take me to see robots!"

Lex leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He had less than four days to complete two buyouts, which normally took four weeks to do. Each.

"Robots, huh?" Clark said. "That sounds exciting."

"Yeah. Mr. Lex said we can go after lunch. Right, Mr. Lex?"

Lex opened his eyes and gave a small smile to Sam. "That's right, Sam," he said as he pressed the intercom button on the phone.

"Yes, Mr. Luthor?" Laura's disembodied voice answered the page.

"Come in here, please."

Laura entered the office after a short knock, a notepad and pen in her hand. She took a position behind the second client chair beside Clark. "Yes, sir?"

"Make note: my father's an as-" Lex flicked a glance at Sam and fixed his vocabulary. "-big meanie." Laura's lips twitched. Clark snickered. "What time is our reservation for lunch?"

"Eleven-thirty," Laura replied.

Lex looked at his watch. "Call legal and tell them I want the Han paperwork by 5:00 PM, leaving the dollar amount blank. Then, I need them to draw up papers to purchase Houston Biotechnologies, dollar amount and special conditions to be determined. I need that first thing Friday morning."

He passed the company biography to Laura. "Call research and tell them I want the usual on Houston and its CEO, Jack Millar, before 6:00 PM tonight. Clear my calendar as best you can for the rest of the week. If they can't be canceled, find out if the meeting can be by phone. If not, they have to be set tonight, tomorrow, or late Thursday. Forward me the standard buyout templates with the correct name changes and plan to stay late tomorrow to help me put together a final proposal. I'll also need you to make a lunch or early dinner appointment with Millar for Thursday at his favorite restaurant. Let him know that LuthorCorp is interested in his company."

"Yes, Mr. Luthor." Laura continued making notes. Clark and Sam stayed politely quiet.

"Put the pilots on standby, flight plans to and from Houston, Texas, on both Thursday and Friday, and make the standard transportation arrangements in Houston," Lex went on. "Send my regrets to the Neidermans and put them first on the invitation list for my next dinner party. Finally, call Mr. Han and inform him that I'll be at the plant at 1:00 PM with the proposal. Let him know we'd like a tour and to have a scientist available to explain how their robots work. Oh, and I'll need you to help me assemble Mr. Han's proposal before lunch, too." He tapped his fingers on the glass desktop. "I think that's it, for now."

Laura nodded. "I'll get started right away, sir," she said, and left.

Clark gaped at Lex the moment the door closed. "Geez, Lex."

"I know." Lex gave him a self-deprecating smile. "Why don't you take Sam to the observation deck? We'll leave for lunch in twenty-five minutes."

"Are you sure you don't just want Sam and I to go home?" Clark said. He covered Sam's ears. "We can see the-" he mouthed the word 'robots,' "-another time."

Lex waved him off. "I promised Sam, and I need to meet with Mr. Han anyway."

"Okay, if you're sure." Clark stood, setting Sam on his feet. "C'mon, Sam. Let's take a tour."

"We're still going to see the robots, right?" Sam asked hopefully.

"That's right," Clark answered as he led Sam out of the office.

Lex slumped in his chair after they left, knowing that he really needed the time that the tour and Sam's questions would take to work on the Houston buyout. But that was neither here nor there, because he wouldn't change his mind about taking Sam to see the robots.

The bright picture on the corner of his desk caught Lex's eyes and an involuntary smile spread across his face. Feeling better suddenly, he straightened in his chair, opened the correct computer screen, and got down to work.

* * *

Whoever coined the phrase "idle rich" never met Lex Luthor. Clark was astonished by how hard Lex worked. He left for the office before 7:00 AM and normally didn't return home until 7:00 PM, unless he had a dinner party or charity event to attend, then he didn't get home until well after midnight. He worked on weekends, too. If it wasn't for Laura, Clark suspected Lex would never leave the office or do anything fun.

Clark sent her flowers on a monthly basis as a thank you.

Despite his workaholic nature, however, Lex always stopped whatever he was doing whenever Sam or Clark visited the office or called. On the rare occasion when he was working at home, he put everything aside to help Sam with his designs and inventions. (Since the tour of Mr. Han's plant, Sam had started building his own robotic machines, which impressed and amused the house staff and occasionally frightened guests.)

Sometimes, Clark was selfish and he left Sam with the live-in nanny before hunting down Lex for a bit of chess and conversation. His co-workers in the mailroom at the Daily Planet were around his age and nice to talk to, but they weren't Lex. Lex always seemed glad to see Clark, too, even if he was tired or stressed.

All of Lex's hard work paid off, though, both literally and figuratively. While he did what he was told for LuthorCorp, most of his time and energy was spent expanding LexCorp and the three-year-old company was worth close to three-quarters of a billion dollars. When LexCorp broke the top one hundred of the Fortune-500 list, Lex hooted and hollered like a ten-year-old, gave Laura a year's salary as a bonus, and decided to take an entire weekend off as a reward. He, Clark, and Sam were going to the zoo. Later in the month, he'd have a dinner party as an 'official' celebration.

Lex confided he'd rather go to the zoo than have a party. The animals at the zoo were much more tame than his business associates.

* * *

The weather was unseasonably warm for spring, but it was perfect for a trip to the Metropolis Zoo. Many families thought the same thing and, despite the zoo having just opened for the day, the parking lot was close to full.

The Metropolis Zoo boasted having the largest number of different species of animals in replicas of their natural habitats in the state. Spread out over ten city blocks, the zoo was also the biggest in the area and was associated with Metropolis University programs of animal study, such as animal husbandry, zoology, and veterinary medicine. The zoo was also one of the cleanest, with no garbage, gum, or cigarette butts littering the walkways or food areas, and restrooms that were cleaned four times daily. Private funding made it all possible, though for once it wasn't attached to the Luthor name.

Inside the front entrance near the family restrooms, Sam stood on the end of a bench in his overalls and long-sleeved shirt, while Clark slathered his neck and face with sunblock. Lex, his light blue shirtsleeves rolled up, held the unfolded map of the zoo, standing beside the bench so Sam could see. They were deciding how they were going to attack the zoo. A battle plan was needed, Lex knew, in order to see everything before closing. Sam had a stopwatch hanging around his neck and was calculating the amount of time they could spend at each animal exhibit.

"What about lunch?" Clark brought up, looking at the excess sunblock on his hands and the cuffs of his faded red rugby shirt. "Bathroom breaks? Souvenir shopping? Don't forget to add time for those."

"Forget souvenir shopping," Lex said, giving Sam the map. "Do you know how inflated the gift store prices are?"

Clark smiled bemusedly at Lex and attacked his face and ears with the extra sunblock. "You get miserly over the strangest things."

Around them, families passed on their way to and from the restrooms, staring, pointing, and whispering when they saw Lex Luthor being sun-screened like a child. The smell of animals was strong in the air. The zoo's overly loud speakers announced special attractions of the day, static crackling under the words. Children screamed and cried, parents yelled, and a drink vendor was already hawking his wares nearby. Sam dictated loudly the route they would take around the zoo. Clark was still smiling, absently agreeing with Sam and rubbing sunblock onto Lex's face. And Lex...

Lex was the happiest he'd ever been in his life.

Suddenly, Lex grinned hugely, stupidly, and probably scared some people walking by. It couldn't be helped. He was happy. The sun was shining, the weather was nice, his health was good, his company was flourishing, he was spending the day with his two favorite people and there was no work in sight.

His chest felt like it was going to burst. Clark's eyebrows rose questioningly. Lex tried to force the smile away, but it refused to go. Every breath he took was shaky from the rush of emotion filling him.

"Care to share?" Clark asked, sliding his thumb along the side of Lex's nose. Sam was absorbed with reading the information about the zoo on the back of the map.

"It's... a really good day," Lex replied.

"We just got here," Clark said, laughter in his eyes. "We haven't done anything yet."

Lex shrugged, still grinning like an idiot. "I'm with you and Sam, and that's all that matters."

A bright, wobbly smile bloomed on Clark's face and he blinked several times as his eyes misted. "You- that's- I-. " He gave up trying to speak and engulfed Lex in a hug instead.

Lex wasn't one for public displays of affection, but he was in such a good mood he'd let it slide. Besides, it was Clark.

"Can we go already?" Sam's complaint broke up the embrace. Lex pretended not to see Clark wipe his eyes.

"Yes, we can go already," Lex told Sam, helping him off the bench. Lex accepted the map and refolded it for easier carrying. Removing his sunglasses from his pocket, he slipped them on his nose, glanced at Clark, and addressed Sam again. "You're the leader, Sam. Lead on."

Visiting the zoo with a three-and-a-half year old genius was an experience. Sam knew almost as much about the animals as the zoo, including the proper pronunciation of the Latin classification terms. There was a moment of tantrum when Sam realized he couldn't read every information placard and still keep to his timed schedule, but Clark solved it by telling Sam they could always return to the zoo another day. The stopwatch disappeared into Clark's pocket, the battle plan was disregarded, and they wandered slowly through the animal habitats with minimal references to the map.

The animals were boring. Most of them slept the day away. Those that were awake did little but stare back at the zoo's guests. The primates, sea mammals, and penguin houses were the only interesting exhibits at the zoo, in Lex's opinion. Sam seemed to like all the animals, however, and that was the important thing. Lex and Clark didn't pay much attention to the animals anyway, other than a cursory initial look. They instead spent the day enjoying each others company, keeping one eye on Sam while debating animals rights, advancement in animal cloning, and the believability of being able to morph into an animal, like in stories.

By the time they got home, loaded down with tacky souvenirs bought over Lex's protests, Lex was hoarse, smelly, tired, a little sunburned, in dire need of an antacid, and desperate to sit down and take off his shoes. He didn't think he would ever have a better day than today.

Sam had fallen asleep on the car ride home and had to be carried into the apartment. Lex led the way to Sam's bedroom. Clark followed, carrying the sleeping boy. Together, using the light from the hallway, they undressed Sam and redressed him in his nighttime training pants and pajamas, and tucked him into bed.

Lex brushed his hand over Sam's hair in affection and went to turn on the nightlight. He started out of the bedroom, but paused in the doorway to wait for Clark.

The gentle illumination of the nightlight cast a glow on Clark as he dropped a kiss on Sam's forehead. The smile Lex had been wearing all day softened, and he was filled with a tender-sort of happiness that no amount of power or money in the world could invoke.

Clark turned from Sam and gave Lex a quiet smile as he crossed towards the door. Lex didn't move from the doorway. Clark came to a stop in front of Lex, curiosity reflected on his handsome face.

Lex didn't plan to do it, but he didn't hesitate either, as he closed the short distance between them and pressed his lips to Clark's in a soft kiss.

Clark didn't look disgusted or take a swing at Lex when he stepped back again, out of the doorway. In fact, he only looked more curious. Lex shrugged sheepishly and answered the unasked question. "It was a really good day."

Clark laughed quietly. "Yeah, it was."

Lex let Clark pass and watched him walk down the hallway before turning in the opposite direction and heading to his own bedroom, to contemplate the realization that he was in love with his best friend.

_Part Ten_

Eighty-three guests accepted the invitation to Lex Luthor's dinner party held at the end of May, including Clark. The party, in celebration of LexCorp breaking the top one hundred of the Fortune-500, was being held at Lex's sprawling Metropolis apartment. The house staff had hidden away all of Sam's gadgets, but the black plastic penguin from the zoo was left untouched on the front hall table between two crystal vases filled with freshly cut flowers. Sam had been left with the nanny, though it was close to his bedtime when the guests started to arrive.

Prominent Metropolis government officials and business owners, as well as some out-of-state guests, mingled in the modern, opulent apartment, dressed to the nines in semi-formal evening gowns and tuxedos. Lionel appeared briefly, somehow conveying congratulations and berating Lex at the same time, before leaving for a "more pressing engagement." Lex was happy to see him off, though Clark could tell that Lex was equally as happy that he'd bothered to stop by at all. Theirs was a relationship Clark didn't think he'd ever understand.

Clark spent most of the evening with Laura, who looked stunning in her burgundy high-collared gown. She received lavish praise from Lex, but Clark learned she felt as out of place as Clark did at the party. They were the people behind the scenes, Hephaestion and Craterus to Alexander the Great. They were there to support Lex in his celebration, and because he invited them personally.

Lex was in his element, cool, confident, and debonair. He circled the party, shaking hands, paying compliments, and discussing business other than his own. Besides Clark, Lex was the youngest person at the party, but his sophisticated charm put him at level with his guests. Clark noted Lex's smile and laugh were all show, however, until Sam sneaked out in his blue cartoon pajamas and joined the party.

Sam went directly to Lex, knowing that Clark would simply send him back to bed. Clark saw Sam, however, and was going to collect him, but was halted by Lex's warm, open, wholly real smile.

Lex picked up Sam, perching him on a hip, uncaring of the wrinkles the action caused. Lex introduced Sam to the Mayor, to whom he had been talking, calling Sam his 'pseudo son.' Clark kept back, watching and listening unobtrusively as Lex continued his rounds with Sam firmly ensconced in his arms. At one point, Lex saw Clark and sent him a private smile, but did not indicate the desire to unload Sam. In fact, Clark caught the two of them sneaking off to the kitchen for ice cream just before the late dinner was to be served.

It was with that, that Clark knew he could no longer keep the truth from Lex. The dinner party was important to Lex, both personally and professionally, yet he ditched it because Sam wanted ice cream, even though Clark was right there and a call away from the nanny (who had been waved off when she'd come to retrieve Sam after noticing he was gone from bed when she'd checked on him). Lex truly loved Sam like a father, although he thought he was nothing more than a caring friend.

After the last guest had gone, Sam long since tucked back into bed, Clark knocked on the door to Lex's bedroom. His tie was unknotted, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, but that was his only deference to comfort. He held Sam's baby book in his hand.

Lex answered the door, expression openly curious. He was partially undressed already, feet bare, jacket, tie, and cummerbund gone, his shirttails hanging loose and collar unbuttoned. "Clark, is something wrong?"

"Can I talk to you?" Clark requested in reply, his stomach tied in nervous knots.

Lex stepped back, opening the door wider, and Clark entered the bedroom. Lex's bedroom was decorated in subdued mauve, rose, and beige, with framed lithographs on the walls. A desk was in one corner, covered with neat stacks of files folders, mail, magazines, and pictures of Clark and Sam. An easy chair and a freestanding lamp were in another corner, trade-sized soft-cover book open facedown on the armrest. The bed was king-sized, taking up most of the room, and was flanked by matching nightstands with small lamps. There were two other doors beside the one leading to the hallway, which led to a bathroom and an enormous closet.

Lex invited Clark to sit, but Clark was too anxious to do so. Worry was immediately evident on Lex's face. "What is it, Clark?"

Clark looked at the man standing in front of him for the last time before everything changed. His best friend, the single person outside of his family that he trusted with everything he was personally and unconditionally with Sam. "I need you to know," he began slowly, "that I wasn't allowed to tell anyone this until I turned eighteen, and it goes without saying that I pretty much always obeyed my parents."

Lex's expression went from worry to dawning understanding to completely blank. It was not comforting. "Go on," he said.

Clark lowered his eyes, focusing on the baby book in his hands. "After I turned eighteen, I didn't know you anymore. Not really, even after we became friends again," he said. "Plus, I had Sam to think about, and I had to be completely certain that I could trust you with his life before I confided in you."

"I would never harm Sam," Lex said, anger lacing his voice.

"I know that. I never would have moved in with you if I thought otherwise." Clark kept his head bowed. "I should have told you months ago, but I know the truth is going to change things between us and...," he trailed off, not wanting to admit out loud that he was a coward.

"Just tell me, Clark."

"I'm not human."

Dead silence. Clark peered up at Lex from beneath his lashes. Lex's face was still a blank mask, stormy blue eyes never leaving Clark. Clark pressed on. "My birth name is Kal-El. I am the last living son of Krypton, a planet that was light years from earth. It was destroyed, but not before my birth parents sent me here. I can tell you more another time."

He raised his head and looked at Lex. "I may look human, but I'm not. And neither is Sam, not fully." With trembling hands, Clark held out the baby book to Lex. "On the inside, Sam looks like me. On the outside... he looks like his father."

Lex took the book. He continued saying nothing, and his expression remained unreadable as he started to page through it. Clark was on pins and needles as he watched Lex skim Sam's birth page, the hand-drawn diagram of Clark's torso and an unborn Sam in his egg, pausing briefly on Clark's family page in the mother's section, before skipping through the photograph pages to the father's section.

Abruptly, Lex went unnaturally still. He stared at the father's family page, the stoic mask shattered, a completely poleaxed expression in its place. "Is this a joke?" he asked finally, in a whisper of disbelief.

"No. No joke," Clark said. "I've had sex with one person in my entire life, and that's you."

"I remember," Lex said faintly. He ran his fingers over the page in the book. "I'm Sam's father? For real?"

"Yeah, you are," Clark said. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but..."

"I...," Lex began, and changed his mind. "Can you leave? I want to be alone."

Fear and hurt slammed into Clark, but he nodded. "I'll be in my room if you have questions." Lex didn't acknowledge him.

He left, the door closing behind him shattering his heart.

* * *

Lex was a father. Clark wasn't human. Sam was Lex and Clark's child.

The words kept circling in Lex's brain. It was nearly incomprehensible. Lex was a father. Clark wasn't human. Sam was Lex and Clark's child.

Soon, he'd feel hurt and anger over missing the first three years of Sam's life. Then, he'd feel true fear because Sam was different, only half-human, and there were a lot of bad people out there - Lex knew most of them by name. He'd also realize that, if he had been in Clark's place, he never, ever, ever would have told anyone that he was an extra-terrestrial.

At the moment, however, Lex was in shock. He was a father. Clark wasn't human. Sam was Lex and Clark's child.

Lex sat down hard on the floor, right where he'd been standing. He'd received shocks before in his life: when he'd lost his hair, when his mother had died, when he'd died. This one was right up there, a triple-punch to the gut. Lex was a father. Clark was not human. Sam was Lex and Clark's child.

His hands were unsteady as he continued paging through the baby book. Magazine and newspaper clippings of him filled the father's section, from the past and present, including as recent of one about LexCorp breaking the top one hundred of the Fortune-500. After that, the book was divided by age, and Lex saw Sam grow and change through neatly labeled pictures.

He didn't realize he was crying until a teardrop splashed on a photograph of him and Sam at Sam's third birthday party.

He was a father.

Lex flipped back to the beginning of the baby book. Samuel David Kent, born August 8, 2002. He was so tiny in the newborn picture. So fragile looking. A brand new life that Lex created. His son.

Lex turned the page and studied the concisely labeled hand-drawn diagram. It was an anatomical drawing, Lex guessed of Clark. There was also a detail of the embryo, a little frog-like thing that had grown inside Clark.

Clark was not human.

Many things were explained and many questions answered by the revelation that Clark was an alien. The lies, the unexplained feats of strength, the fact that he was alive at all, made sense now. The family page in the mother's section had information on the Kents but also on Clark's biological parents, Jor-El and Lara-El. There was a notation by their names to access the AI for a complete family tree. Lex would have to ask Clark later about the AI. He assumed it meant artificial intelligence, that Clark had access to a computer from Krypton. If so, he would also have to ask it how two different species created a child.

Sam was Lex and Clark's child.

Lex was in love with Clark, a recent discovery that had slipped upon him unaware. He doubted he would ever have his feelings returned, but Sam was a tangible piece of them both, proof of something wonderful made by their friendship that Lex could cherish and love without fear of reproach. He was a father, he was in love with Clark, and Sam was their child.

Overwhelmed, for the first time since his mother died, Lex lowered his face to his hands and wept.

* * *

"Sign these."

Clark jumped, startled, as two reams of paper, six-inches each and bound at the top, were dropped on the table by his elbow. He looked up from his magazine, as Lex sank into the chair beside him.

Lex looked wan, the purple shadows under his eyes matching his shirt. This was the first time Clark had seen him since telling him the truth. Sam had said that Lex had left at six o'clock in the morning, while Sam was watching early Sunday morning cartoons. It was now 3:45 in the afternoon. Clark was seated at the round table in the family room, keeping an eye on Sam, who was in his workshop next door.

The family room, formerly Lex's den, was the most oft occupied room in the apartment. Matching blue-green fabric sofas sat at angles in front of an enormous entertainment center. A table and four chairs, where they ate their meals, was set up near the double sliding doors that led to Sam's workshop. On the opposite side of the room, another set of sliding doors led to Lex's office. Clark had been in the family room nearly the entire day. He hadn't slept the night before, and was too anxious to eat. Fear and worry gnawed at him, as he wondered what was going to happen now that he'd told Lex the truth. He was about to find out.

"What are they?" Clark picked up the first ream of paper, which was marked with a multitude of bright tabs fanned along the side that read: "sign here."

"Secondary parent adoption papers," Lex replied. "Once you sign and they're filed, I'll also legally be Sam's father."

Clark was surprised. "You can do that?"

"It's not common practice in the State of Kansas, but yes, it can be done," Lex said. "Now sign. I paid my attorneys a lot of money to get these papers drawn up today."

"Don't you think you should ask me to sign?"

Lex leveled him with a look.

Clark nodded. "Right. Sam's as much your son as mine." He picked up a pen, flipped to the first tab, and paused. "Do I need to read this first?"

Lex's expression was impassive, his eyes unfathomable. "I don't know. Do you?"

"You're mad at me, aren't you," Clark stated.

"Yes," Lex said coolly, in antithesis of his answer.

Clark nodded again, and signed.

It took several minutes to affix his signature in all the indicated places on both reams of legal documents. Clark noted absently that the second bundle was titled differently, but signed nonetheless. When he finished, he slid both to Lex, folded his arms on the table, and asked, "Anything else?"

"Your solemn promise that you won't tell anyone else about your origins. No one."

"What about Sam?" Clark said. "I was planning to tell him when he was old enough to understand. He already knows that I have special abilities and how to keep a secret."

"We'll discuss it when the time comes," Lex said, "but until that happens, you will keep your origins a secret even from Sam." He looked away, focusing on an unseen spot across the room. "I wish you hadn't told me, either."

"What? Why?" Clark was baffled. "You were rather determined to learn the truth when you lived in Smallville."

"Clark, do you understand what certain people would do to get their hands on a real extra-terrestrial?" Lex's voice was lowered so as not to be overheard. "Ignorance is the best protection. The truth can't be tortured out of someone if they don't know it."

Clark's stomach dropped as pure terror washed over him at the thought of Sam, Lex, or Clark's parents being tortured because of him. His face became ashen. "Oh, God."

Lex put his hand on Clark's forearm, leaning closer to him. "A healthy dose of fear is good, but don't let it overpower you."

"What do I do?" Clark grasped Lex's hand. "How can I protect you guys?"

"Just promise that you won't tell anyone," Lex said. "And if you have the need to play hero, like you did in Smallville, wear a disguise. My money will take care of the rest."

"I promise," Clark agreed readily. "I don't use my abilities much anyway, not since Sam was born. Before, it was just around my parents' farm mostly, and now when I fly home for a visit during my lunch breaks."

Lex's eyes widened. "You can fly?"

Clark's smile was shaky, but real. "Yeah, since I was seventeen. Cool, huh?"

Lex burst out laughing. "Yes, just a little bit."

"Are we okay?" Clark asked tentatively, after Lex's laughter trickled off.

Lex squeezed Clark's hand, which was still being held. "We're okay. I'm mad at you for making me miss out on a part of Sam's childhood, but I understand why. I also have a ton of questions."

"Questions about what?" It was Sam who had spoken, appearing at Lex's elbow. In his hands was his notebook of preliminary schematics, and he had pencil smudges on his face.

The worries Clark'd had faded. He and Lex were going to be fine, the truths hadn't scared him away, or turn him into a mad scientist, and Sam was going to have both his parents in his life.

Clark glanced at Lex, squeezed his hand again, and smiled. "Questions like: how would you like to have _two_ dads, Sam?"

_Part Eleven_

Lois Lane, twenty-five, brunette, happily single and sadly virginal, loved working for the Daily Planet.

She just hated her job.

Lois was meant to be a hard-hitting investigative journalist, not a society fluff writer. Her fast-thinking, inquisitive mind paired with her take-no-prisoners attitude had won her scores of journalistic awards in high school and college. Her byline had been on the front page since she started writing at age twelve for the Junior High Post. She had contacts. She had enemies!

She was stuck writing about the hemlines of the celebrity lovelorn.

"I don't care that Betsy Johnson spilled her drink on her husband. I want to know if she said anything about the insider trading rumors!" Lois groused, pecking angrily at her keyboard. "I want to know how Lionel Luthor really feels about his son's success."

"Lionel can't decide whether to be peeved or proud."

Lois' head shot up, dark hair flying in her face. She brushed it out of the way and stared at the tall, kind of cute guy standing by her desk in the open, noisy bullpen of the Daily Planet. "Who are you?"

"Clark Kent." He smiled and held up a bundle of mail. "Mailroom." He plopped the bundle in her neighbor's inbox.

"How do you know what Luthor feels?"

Clark shrugged enigmatically. "It's pretty obvious. If Lionel really didn't like Lex, he would have declared war on LexCorp and crushed it."

Lois was quickly annoyed. She wanted facts, not opinions. Especially not the opinions of the mailboy. "Of course, you would know. After all, you're on a first-name basis with him," she mocked.

"Who is on a first-name basis with who?"

"Mr. White!" Lois shot to her feet. "I was just speaking with Kent here about the Luthors."

Perry White, Editor-In-Chief of the Daily Planet, looked like a television dad, but had the attitude of a bulldog. Silver-haired and stocky, he narrowed his eyes at Clark. "Who are you? Do you work for me?"

"I'm Clark Kent. I work in the mailroom."

"You're on a first-name basis with one of the Luthors?" Perry queried.

"So he claims," Lois spoke up skeptically.

"I am, both of them, though it annoys Lionel," Clark replied with a quick frown to Lois. "I won't use my personal relationship with them for the Planet's benefit, though."

"Integrity. I like that," Perry said, and then completely disregarded it. "Tell me: were you at Lex Luthor's dinner party Saturday?"

"I was," Clark said, looking confused.

"Great! Find yourself a computer and write me a five hundred-word article on the party. I want it in my hands by three o'clock."

"Uh... okay."

"Super!" Perry turned to Lois and lowered his voice. "We'll give the kid a chance to prove his claim, but I want you to finish your article, just in case he's full of crap."

Lois' smile was tight. "Yes, Mr. White."

"Good girl." Perry turned to Clark again. "Three o'clock, kid. Consider this your trial run."

Lois seethed as Perry walked away. She angrily eyed the puppy that might steal her inches. "You did that on purpose!"

"What?" Clark would look adorable in his confusion if Lois hadn't wanted to kill him.

"Don't give me that," she growled. "All wannabe journalists start in the mailroom, waiting for their big break."

"I'm not-"

"You'd better pray for another job, because if you don't know the Luthors you'll be out of here like that!" Lois snapped her fingers in emphasis. That'd put him in his place.

Clark's spine stiffened, fire sparking in his eyes. "Show me to a computer, and I'll show you how well I know the Luthors."

Lois accepted the challenge. She closed out her computer window, opened a fresh page, and stepped aside. She patted the seatback of her chair. "It's all yours."

Clark's eyes narrowed briefly. He cracked his knuckles, straddled the chair, and began typing.

Lois looked over his shoulder, reading the words at they appeared on the computer screen. The first sentence snagged her attention. The first paragraph told her all the particulars: who, what, when, and where. The second paragraph made her want to read more. Irritation flared. Clark Kent's writing was good. "Where'd you go to school, Kent?" she asked. "MetU? Kansas State?"

**"GED."**

"Where's that? I've never heard of that college."

"That's because it's not a college," Clark said, not pausing in his typing. "I only have a GED."

Now Lois was really miffed. The puppy hadn't even gone to college and he wrote this well? How unfair was that!

"Hey, Lois. I've got those pictures you wanted." Jimmy Olsen, camera slung around his neck as always, approached, holding a manila envelope. "I think you'll really like the third one."

"Thanks, Jimmy." She took the envelope from him and flipped through the pictures. He was such a great kid, an even better photographer, and she had him wrapped around her little finger. She used him often as a freelance photographer, for pictures for her society articles, but always on the lookout for an expos.

"Don't I know you?" Jimmy asked Clark.

Clark stopped typing and looked up. "Um, I don't think so."

Jimmy studied him with a frown for a moment, and then his face lit up. "I know! You're that guy who was with Lex Luthor at the Mudhens baseball game last fall. There was a kid with you, too. I took your guys' picture and sent it to Mr. Luthor." Jimmy lifted his camera, smiling lopsidedly. "You can say I have a photographic memory."

"You took that picture?" Clark grinned, held out his hand, and pumped Jimmy's when he accepted the handshake. "Lex loves that shot. It's on his desk at work."

Lois didn't like the sound of that statement. "Wait, Jimmy. Are you saying Kent here knows Lex Luthor and you have pictures?"

"Yeah," Jimmy replied. "One of the shots is in my portfolio, if you ever want to see it."

Lois didn't need to see a sixteen-year-old's "etchings." She instead glared at Clark. "You know Lex Luthor?"

"Er, yeah." Clark looked at her like she was a few bricks shy.

"Why didn't you say something?"

Clark glanced at Jimmy in confusion, then back at Lois. "I think I did."

Lois dragged the chair over from the next desk, grabbed a pen and something to write on, and sat close to Clark. "So spill," she demanded. "How do you know Luthor?"

"I'm not going to answer that." Clark turned back to the computer and began typing again. "My relationship with Lex is personal."

"You have a personal relationship with him?" Lois scratched on her paper. "Lovers?"

The puppy blushed. Lois smiled predatorily and didn't believe it when he stated, "No." She might have to try and keep Kent around; having an inside to the Luthors would pave her way to the front page.

* * *

Clark ushered Sam into Lex's LuthorCorp outer office, both of them dressed nicer than normal. They were there to collect Lex for dinner to celebrate Clark's promotion at the Daily Planet earlier in the week. Clark was ecstatic with the new job, except for having to be partnered with the tenacious Lois Lane. He was glad he had a child; Sam had taught him patience and he had a feeling he'd need a lot working with her.

The doors to Lex's inner office were wide open and Clark could easily hear the argument going on inside between Lionel and Lex. He picked up Sam, face creasing in concern, as he walked up to Laura's desk. Laura appeared outwardly calm, but Clark knew she was silently seething.

"Hey," Clark greeted her in a subdued voice, perching Sam on the high ledge of her desk. "What is Lionel mad about now?"

"You and Sam," Laura answered. "He found out about the adoption."

"Who's Papa Lex fighting with, Dad?" Sam asked anxiously, craning his neck to try and see into the office. He hated it when people fought.

"Your Grandpa Lionel." The name gave Clark a smile, even though the fight in the other room quickly washed it away. It was hard not to overhear. Lionel's voice was raised in anger and Lex matched him, tone for tone.

"You will get these orders rescinded!"

"I will not! This is my life, Dad. I'm twenty-five years old and you can't tell me what to do anymore."

"I can when it's my money."

"It's my money, and I can leave it to whoever I wish."

"Jesus, Lex! Kent is using you for a fool. I should have put a stop to your 'friendship' long ago."

"Clark is not using me."

"He got you to sign over everything you have to him, on top of adopting that brat of his."

"Don't you dare say anything disparaging about Sam. He's my son now."

"Of course he's your son. You're practically legally married to his father!"

"Your point?"

"My point?! You've signed your life over to Clark Kent!"

"Isn't that what you did with Mom?"

Stunned silence, in the other room and with Clark. He had to have misunderstood. Lex couldn't have been implying...

Clark looked at Laura, whose surprise was tempered with a knowing smile, as if she already knew what Lex felt but didn't think he'd tell Lionel. Which meant that Lex's analogy was not misspoken or misunderstood.

Oh, wow.

Sam tried to jump off the desk and Clark helped him down. Sam headed immediately for Lex's inner office. "Papa Lex!"

Clark moved into the open doorway, as Lex picked up Sam. Lex and Lionel stood across from one another in the middle of the room, their postures stiff and expressions cold. Holding Sam didn't make Lex seem any less intimidating as he stared down his father.

"Why are you fighting with Grandpa Lionel?" Sam asked, using the label Clark had given Lionel.

Lionel bristled. "Grandpa?"

Lex smiled like a shark. "Congratulations. You have a grandson."

The comment incensed Lionel even more. "This isn't over," he threatened, moving to leave. Lex's calm, factual response made him pause.

"Yes, it is, Dad. Accept it and move on."

Lionel looked directly at Clark. Clark met his icy gaze steadily, although inside Clark was cringing. "I hope you're happy," Lionel said.

"Unquestionably," Clark said, "but not for the reasons you think."

"Prove it," Lionel challenged, and left.

Clark turned and watched Lionel storm out the glass doors of the outer office and jab angrily at the elevator button a short way up the hall. Lex and Sam came up beside Clark. "It's hard to stage a dramatic exit when you have to wait for the elevator," Lex commented.

Clark looked at Lex. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," Lex replied. He set down a wiggling Sam, and Sam hurried off to the bathroom. "I knew Dad would confront me as soon as he learned about the legal work."

"About that," Clark began. "Why did your dad say we were as good as married?"

"He was being a jerk," Lex answered with a shrug.

"Yeah, but you just adopted Sam. That doesn't give me anything."

"He was referring to the Domestic Partners Agreement, which entitles you to everything I have."

Clark blinked. "I don't remember agreeing to that. I wouldn't have agreed to that."

"You signed the agreement." Lex smiled slyly. "It's not something you can give back, either."

Clark suddenly remembered the papers that he'd signed - and hadn't read - on Sunday, and the title of the second bundle he'd barely glanced at. "Tricky, Lex. Very tricky. Why did you do it?"

"To better protect you and Sam," Lex answered. "I don't want you to ever have to worry about paying for Sam's schooling, or medical bills, or anything else."

"Is that the only reason?" Clark pressed.

Lex looked away. "Yes. What other reason would there be?" he said, before heading out to speak to Laura.

Clark didn't call Lex on this lie. He needed more time, anyway, to process the fact that Lex Luthor was in love with him.

Though for some reason, it wasn't much of a surprise.

* * *

Lionel Luthor was not a happy man.

It had taken six weeks, two-dozen attorneys, and a frank discussion with the Circuit Court Judge, to come to the depressing conclusion that Lex's actions were legal and binding, and there were no loopholes to be found. Clark Kent owned Lex Luthor, and Sam was Lex's son.

Lionel was a grandfather.

The trust papers were pushed across the conference table at the bank. Lionel stood at the window of the conference room, looking out at the families in shorts and t-shirts, enjoying the summer day. Behind him, his attorney, Jonathan and Martha Kent were seated at the table in the air-conditioned room, at Lionel's request.

"What is this, Luthor?" Jonathan said, examining the paperwork.

"This is a trust, Mr. Kent," the attorney answered on Lionel's behalf.

"I'm not blind. I want to know what this is all about," Jonathan said.

"Mr. Luthor has set up a trust-"

Jonathan cut off the attorney. "I wasn't speaking to you."

"It's a gift, Jonathan." Lionel did not turn from the window. "For my grandson."

"You've got to be kidding me," Jonathan sneered.

"No," Lionel said. "I do not joke about money."

"Lionel," Martha said, "I think what Jonathan is asking, is why?"

"Carter, leave." The attorney did as told. After the door closed, Lionel responded to Martha's question. "As you know, Lex has adopted Sam." Lionel watched as a couple kissed on the street outside. "Lex has also signed over his entire fortune to that gold-digger son of yours."

"Luthor-," Jonathan began. Martha quieted him.

Lionel continued. "I have set up a trust for Sam to insure that he is the heir to the Luthor Empire upon Lex's death, not Clark. I am here today merely to inquire as to who you think would make a responsible trustee, should Lex die before Sam is twenty-one."

"You're serious about this," Martha said, not hiding her surprise.

"Completely."

"But what if Lex marries and has another child?"

"He won't." Lionel turned finally, accepting and moving on. "Lex truly is in love with your son."

"What?" Jonathan said in disbelief. Martha looked ill.

"Oh, come now, don't pretend you're shocked," Lionel said. "That was your goal, after all."

"It was not." Martha was the one who spoke up first, her tone pleasant and calm, which was more unnerving than if she had yelled. "If it was my choice, I wouldn't have let Clark within a hundred miles of Lex."

"Don't blame us because your son's a queer," Jonathan added, though he sounded more resigned than angry.

"Who Lex chooses to make a fool of himself over is none of my business, or so I've been told," Lionel said. "But now you understand why I am setting up this trust for Sam. Whether I like it or not, he is the next Luthor heir, and I will not allow my grandchild to suffer poverty because Clark squandered away my money."

Jonathan and Martha exchanged long glances. Jonathan returned his attention to Lionel. "Sam's nanny, Colleen Whitworth, should be named trustee. She has impeccable references and only Sam's best interests at heart."

"Thank you, Jonathan, Martha." Lionel headed for the door, planning to send his attorney back in for the paperwork. "I suppose I will see you at Sam's fourth birthday party in August. Good day."

_Part Twelve_

Clark hadn't had a decent night's sleep in months, not since he realized that Lex loved him. Other than that, the summer itself had been fairly uneventful. Clark's birthday passed. Sam's birthday also had come and gone, celebrated with family and friends. School was about to start and Sam had been enrolled at Maplethorpe. Clark went to parties, grand openings, and charity events on assignment for the Daily Planet, sometimes with Lois, sometimes with Lex, and sometimes on his own. Lex worked, played with Sam, and acted normal around Clark, never revealing that he had any feelings stronger than friendship. If Clark hadn't overheard the argument between Lex and Lionel, Clark would not have known Lex was in love with him, until Jonathan and Martha had brought it up at lunch one day after they had a visit from Lionel.

It was weird on Clark's end to know that Lex loved him. Clark couldn't figure out if he was supposed to do something. Every time he thought about it, his stomach would flip and he'd have difficulty breathing. It was like being around Lana back when she wore her meteorite necklace, which should have told Clark something, but it had been allergies, not love, with Lana.

Clark knew he loved Lex like a friend and could be aroused by him if Clark though about Lex sexually. But romantic love? Could Clark love Lex like Jonathan loved Martha? The question circled round and round Clark's brain for weeks.

The answer crept up on Clark silently, pouncing on him out of the blue.

They were at the movies, waiting in line at the concession counter before the show. They were next to be served. Lex was crouched beside Sam, looking at the overpriced candy on display, his bald head reflecting the gaudy neon lights of the concession area.

"If they had Wintogreen Lifesavers, we could make lightning in our mouths," Lex was telling Sam.

"How?" Sam asked.

"It's called candy triboluminescence. What it is, is light produced while striking or rubbing two pieces of material together. It's basically light from friction. Triboluminescence comes from the Greek tribein, which means 'to rub', and the Latin lumin, meaning 'light.'"

Clark tried hard not to laugh. Lex was the biggest closet nerd on the planet.

"In general, luminescence occurs when energy is input into atoms from heat, friction, electricity, or other sources. The electrons in the atom absorb this energy. When the electrons return to their usual state, the energy is released in the form of light. The spectrum of the light produced from the triboluminescence of sugar is the same as the spectrum of lightning." Lex's face was lit up with nerdish glee as he explained something scientific to an appreciative audience.

It was at that moment, while Lex was explaining candy-lightning to an enthralled Sam, who lapped up the information like the four-year-old genius he was, that Clark knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Lex Luthor.

A ridiculous grin spread across Clark's face.

"Can I help who's next in line?" the girl behind the concession counter barked.

Still grinning like a loon, Clark stepped up to the counter. "Large popcorn, large Pepsi, a bottle of water, a child-size Pepsi and... Lex? Anything else?"

"A KitKat and SweetTarts." Lex straightened, as the girl went to fill their order. "I'm in the wrong business. The candy alone is marked up three hundred percent here, and the popcorn? The theater's charging $3.98 for a bag of mostly air. We spent more on concessions than our tickets for the movie."

"I think we can afford it, Lex," Clark said, chuckling.

Lex wagged his finger at Clark. "It's that sort of thinking that causes rich men to go broke."

"So says the man who buys a new car every other week."

"That's different."

"Uh-huh." Clark leaned against the counter, listening to Lex reason why cars were not a waste of money, and wondered why it had taken him so long to fall in love with Lex. Lex was... Lex, his own category of specialness. Something that Clark had known all along but was now just realizing it.

"Miss Lana!"

Both men turned in surprise to see Lana, who gave Sam a quick hug and smile in friendliness. "Hey, guys. Fancy meeting you here."

"Lana, hi," Clark greeted warmly. He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

"Lana." Lex's greeting was more formal. "What are you doing here?"

"Seeing a movie, what else?" Lana replied, seemingly not offended by Lex's near rudeness. "School started last week and my brain already needs a break."

"Which show are you seeing?" Clark asked.

"Same as you, I'd bet," she said, and named the Disney matinee.

"Are you going to sit with us, Miss Lana?" Sam said, clutching the kid's drink that Lex had handed to him.

"I could," Lana said, glancing questioningly at Clark for an invitation.

"Sounds great to me," Clark said, smiling widely.

"Yes, please join us," Lex said, though his tone was rather flat.

A light bulb went off suddenly above Clark's head. Lex was jealous, even though he knew that Clark and Lana were only friends. The realization made Clark want to grin stupidly. It was hard to fight it.

After paying for their junk food, they headed for the theater. Inside, the seats were packed with parents and children. Clark searched for a spot with four open chairs, but could only find three at the most. He told the others the same.

"I'll sit by myself," Lana volunteered immediately. "That was the original plan anyway."

"No," Lex spoke up. "There's spots for two and two."

"Good idea." Clark gave Lana Sam's candy and a pleading look. "You and Sam go sit closer to the screen. Lex and I will stay back here."

Lana's lips twitched as she fought a smile. "Fine by me."

Lex appeared befuddled, as he watched Lana lead Sam up the aisle. "You don't want to sit with Lana?"

Clark shook his head. "We're just friends, Lex. Stop trying to match-make us. Besides, I already love someone else."

Lex's snapped his head around, eyes wide as he stared at Clark. "You what?"

"Love someone else," Clark repeated blandly, like he was commenting on the weather. Silently, he was laughing. He nudged Lex towards two open seats near the rear of the theater. "Let's grab a seat before they're all gone."

Lex stumbled - he actually stumbled - walking towards the seats. They settled in the semi-uncomfortable auditorium chairs. Lex twisted sideways in his seat and immediately confronted Clark. "Who?"

"Who what?" Clark said innocently.

"Who do you love?" Lex demanded in a tight voice, his features tensing.

The lights went down and the screen flickered to life. The noise level of the children dropped almost instantly. A commercial began to play on screen, a raucous video touting a specific name brand. Bright colors splashed a violent dance over the audience. Techno music caused the seats to vibrate.

Clark reached over and covered Lex's hand with his own. He leaned closer so that Lex could hear him, and answered, "You."

* * *

Lex couldn't breathe.

His free hand shook wildly as he pulled at the collar of his shirt, only to find it already unbuttoned, so he fisted his hand in Clark's hair instead and kissed him.

It was awkward. Clumsy. Eww-inducing from behind. Lex still couldn't breathe, but he'd happily leave the world the same way he'd once returned to it: with Clark's mouth pressed against his own.

Clark pulled away first, whispering, "Later," against Lex's lips. Later. Right. Movie theater full of children and Kansas-bred parents. Lex supposed it was a good idea. It would give him a chance to digest the fact that Clark loved him. And try to relearn to breathe.

Holy crap.

The movie passed by in a blur of talking animals and school children. Clark held Lex's hand through the whole thing. It made Lex want to giggle.

Eventually, the lights went up and people started filing out of the theater. Clark and Lex stayed seated, watching for Lana and Sam. Or rather, Clark was watching for Lana and Sam. Lex was watching Clark and hoping he wasn't stuck in a very cruel dream.

Abruptly, he pinched himself on the thigh. "Ow."

Clark's gaze swung to Lex. Their eyes met. Awareness crackled to life between them; awareness of love, of possibilities. Of passion, tasted once and tucked away, a fond memory.

"Spend forever with me," Lex said suddenly, urgently. A movie theater full of people wasn't the best place for this, but he needed confirmation. He needed to know that Clark was on the same page, that Lex was not interested in just a fling.

Clark's answering smile was tender and happy. "I can do that."

And that was that. They were together. Committed. Forever.

Lex squeezed Clark's hand, which was still holding his, and promised himself, as soon as they were alone, that he would clearly spell out how much Clark meant to him.

But for now, he would smile, and hold Clark's hand, and love him silently. And breathe.

* * *

It shouldn't have felt so awkward. They should have been all over each other the moment the bedroom door was locked behind them. Sam had been deposited with the nanny, the cell phone turned off, and all other distractions put on hold. There was only Lex and Clark and a king-sized bed waiting to be used.

Instead, they stood a good distance apart, uncomfortable and nervous. Neither of them spoke. It was ridiculous. They were best friends who recently discovered they loved each other. The next step shouldn't have been difficult at all. Something had to give. They couldn't stand there, not looking at each other and shifting on their feet.

"I love you."

One of them finally said it. Or both. It didn't matter, because they were in each other's arms, kissing desperately, making up for the more than four years that had passed since their last intimate encounter. They clung to one another, hips grinding together, breathing heavily as they kissed roughly, hungrily. Hot, wet, and bruising. Too many layers of clothing separated them, but they were too caught up in passion's fire to do anything but thrust helplessly against the other until they came in their pants like teenagers.

Desperation lessened. The sense of immediacy slowed to a languidness. Need for release gave way to a relaxed desire to touch. The unending kiss became tender, soft, tasting instead of devouring, gentle instead of savage. They held each other instead of clinging, hands caressing rather than clenching. Clothing came off piece by piece and, naked, they tumbled onto the bed.

Lust was slowly stoked again with sure touches, gently possessive. Mouths met, parted, explored, and met again. Whispers of flesh brushing against flesh, the sheets rustling, words of love and soft laughter rose from the bed to linger in the air.

"...love you..."

"...feels right..."

"...beautiful..."

"...best thing ever..."

"...so happy..."

"...dear to me..."

"...belonging..."

"...forever..."

They made love without reservation, a natural step in their relationship that echoed the past. The same feelings were there, only magnified, intensified. The love they'd had as friends deeper and more adult.

Later, they drifted off to sleep, tangled together, and dreamed of nothing. They already had everything they could wish for: family, friendship, and love.

_Epilogue_

Clark stretched his arms out across the back of the green-painted bench, ankle propped on his opposite knee. The warm sun shone brightly in the sky, and he squinted slightly as he kept an eye on Sam playing on the basketball court at their favorite park. He watched his seven-year-old make basket after basket, nothing but net, from chalk-marked spots on the blacktop, the ball rebounding directly to him after every shot. It would be amazing to anyone who didn't know Sam. To Clark, it was just another example of his child's genius put to work.

"I need Superman."

Clark turned his head at the declaration, brows raised. "Why?"

Lex walked slowly towards where Clark sat, keeping pace with PJ, who toddled along beside him, holding his hand. A dark-colored diaper bag was slung over Lex's shoulder, pulling at his violet shirt. "The Mayor still hasn't added a changing table to the men's restroom."

"And you want Superman to rough him up," Clark said with a roll of his eyes. Lex always wanted him to strong-arm someone. "It's not going to happen, Lex."

"Well, someone needs to let the Mayor know that he can't ignore his constituents," Lex said. "I've already tried talking to him, personally and through the proper channels of complaint."

PJ spotted Sam and pulled away from Lex. Lex let her go, and she ran as fast as her little legs could carry her towards her brother. Halfway to her goal, she fell in the grass. Both of her fathers waited for her to cry, but PJ was a Luthor through and through and Luthors rarely cried. She quickly got to her feet and continued to run.

Pamela Jean Luthor was Lex's and Clark's second child, pre-planned and prepared for, except for the part where Clark got knocked up in the backseat of the four-door at the Drive-In, three months before the chosen conception date. Babies shouldn't be strategized anyway, in Clark's opinion. Lex had begged to differ, but since he was the one who hadn't worn a condom, it was his own fault.

PJ, as she was called, was two-years-old and looked a lot like Clark: dark hair, naturally tan skin, high cheekbones even this early in life. She had Lex's steel-blue eyes, however, that weighed and measured and calculated, and Clark knew that she would be the one to take over LexCorp one day, even though she still didn't talk. She also had Lionel wrapped around her tiny finger and Clark wouldn't be surprised if LuthorCorp also went to her. Sam wouldn't care; he was too busy building robots and other inventions. Besides which, Jonathan and Martha spoiled him rotten, so he wasn't left out.

Clark and Lex were still together, best friends and lovers, the way it was meant to be. Jonathan was the one who, surprisingly, supported them the most, followed by Lionel. Martha would never like Lex, but she tolerated the relationship because Clark was happy. And he was, extremely so. He had two beautiful children; a good job at the Daily Planet as a front page reporter along with his insane partner, Lois Lane; a large house in the suburbs with a white picket fence that made Lex mutter about clichs; an alternate persona that allowed him to play hero; and a lifetime companion that he loved more and more every day.

"I don't know what else to do," Lex went on, continuing his mini-rant. He sat down beside Clark, sticking the diaper bag under the bench. "I could have LexCorp, or convince Dad to have LuthorCorp, install the changing tables, but this is a civic matter. We pay taxes. There should be city funds for this." He frowned irritably. "If this was a CEO dissing me, I'd take his company and do it myself."

"Why don't you?" Clark said.

"I can't just take over being Mayor, Clark," Lex said. "It's an elected position."

"Then run in the next election." Clark watched Sam taunt PJ with the basketball. "Sam, don't tease your sister!"

"Maybe I will run," Lex said thoughtfully. "I'd win, of course."

Clark smiled bemusedly. "Of course."

"Laura is practically in charge of LexCorp as it is," Lex continued. "My dad would have to rely on his drones again, but he'd survive. Plus, I've always wanted to rule the world, so I've got to start somewhere."

"Actually, you can start now and tell your children to behave."

Lex's gaze snapped up. "Sam! PJ! Enough!"

Clark watched as Lex stood and crossed to the kids. They immediately latched onto Lex, giving up fighting with each other in order to play with Papa. Lex picked up PJ, set her on his shoulders, and passed the ball to her. She made a basket and clapped in delight. Sam began making calculations again, marking the ground and telling Lex where to stand. Clark smiled, stood, and joined his family.

Lois had asked Clark once if he'd pictured his life turning out as it did. He'd told her no.

It turned out better.

- _End_


End file.
